


The Pride of Thornhill

by nerdgirlwalking



Series: Catalyst Verse [5]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/F, Minor Crossover Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-09-23 04:52:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 87,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9641501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdgirlwalking/pseuds/nerdgirlwalking
Summary: The Solstice Festival is one of Thornhill's biggest holidays. This year King Harold is making the celebration extra special with the introduction of a new royal flagship. Lord Logan Pierce, the genius behind several of the ship's innovations, is a man who knows how to cause a stir. His latest one will ensure that the festival will be no holiday for Ser Shaw and the rest of the King's court.(And all that is before the pirates get involved.)





	1. Return of the Weird Sister

**Author's Note:**

> So a year ago after too many RPGs and binge watching POI in the hope that a start date for Season Five would get announced if I only watched If Then Else enough times, I got a crazy idea. A crazy idea that just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. So I did. Then I had a dilemma. Do I post something that to me seemed absurd, even though I had a hell of a lot of fun writing it? Or did I just leave it to lay on my hard drive forever?  
> Ultimately, I decided to post it. Though I was certain I'd get laughed off of the internet for trying such a silly mashup. Then something even weirder happened. People had just as much fun reading my crazy idea as I had writing it.  
> So here we are, a year and three stories later, with the fifth (wow that's even weirder) tale in the Catalyst Verse. I am still having a hell of a lot of fun writing this and I hope you all will too as you read this latest tale.

 

Captain Lionel Fusco watched three wagons slowly roll into the courtyard in front of the barracks of Turing’s guard. He held up a hand in greeting to a group weary looking men accompanying them. He waved off their attempt at a formal address and instead announced, “Cook’s been at it for a while. Head inside and grab some breakfast boys.”

 

The men nodded gratefully to him. The mounted guards climbed down from their horses and began to lead them towards the stables. Fusco motioned for his stable hands to go and assist the drivers unhooking the teams of horses from the wagons. The young boys were quick to follow his command. The sooner they completed the day’s tasks, the sooner they could prepare for the opening of the Solstice Festival that evening. The eager young men rushed past the lieutenant responsible for the caravan as he made his way over to Fusco.

 

“Well met.”

 

Fusco nodded, “You’re late.”

 

 

The man paled slightly. “We had some trouble on the road.”

 

Fusco fought not to roll his eyes. Just what they did not need. “What sort of trouble?” The supply wagons were still full and none of the men milling about looked injured. The armored wagon, between them, appeared untouched as well.

 

“There were bandits on the road.”

 

Ah crap. Fusco rubbed his brow. Just what they didn’t need. “How many?”

 

“A dozen. All dead now.”

 

Small favors. “Are you certain that was all of them?” Wouldn’t do for any to regroup and start terrorizing folk on the road. It was going to be a busy week for travelers.

 

“Well no.”

 

Fusco rolled his eyes. He wasn’t going to snap. It was far too early in the morning for that. “This is why we typically leave one alive to question.”

 

“Oh there was one survivor.”

 

“And?”

 

“He was knocked out.” At Fusco’s deepening scowl he rushed to elaborate, “But we brought him with us.”

 

“Where?” Fusco hadn’t seen the guards escorting any prisoners when they went into the barracks.

 

The Lieutenant lead him to the one armored wagon in the caravan. It’s team of six horses pawed and stamped at the dirt as they drew near, the grooms not having reached them to lead them to the stables just yet. The wagon’s weight required such a large team. The front and sides of the vehicle were reinforced with iron plates, with a large door on the back allowing entry into the storage component. The driver’s box was empty. “You didn’t leave anyone to watch your prisoner?”

 

“You said they could go eat,” The Lieutenant shrugged. He pulled a long chain from the neck of his uniform and held up a key. “Besides, it locks from the outside.”

 

“Give me that,” Fusco practically growled as he snatched away the key. The Lieutenant choked as the chain tightened around his neck.Wholly unconcerned by the noise, Fusco jammed the key into the lock and with a twist of his wrist the door opened with a loud click. He shoved the key back into the gasping man’s hand.

 

A cloaked figure lay collapsed against a few crates at the back of the wagon. They didn’t stir when Fusco opened the door. He glanced over his shoulder at the Lieutenant. “I thought you said you found a survivor?”

 

“You’re looking at him.”

 

“And he’s slumped over like a corpse.”

 

The Lieutenant paled at the prospect of having hauled a body along for half of his trip. “H-he wasn’t before.”

 

Fusco rolled his eyes. “When’s the last time someone checked?”

 

“We were trying to make up for lost time.” He swallowed, “We didn’t make any stops.”

 

“What condition was the prisoner in when you apprehended him?”

 

The Lieutenant swallowed. “I’m not sure.”

 

How could he not be sure? Fusco’s scowl deepened. “Explain,” He barked.

 

“I didn’t examine the prisoner.” He puffed out his chest. “I was searching the other bodies for clues.”

 

“Bodies?”

 

He nodded, “They were already dead when we got there.”

 

Gods preserve us. “And what did you find?”

 

“They were bandits.”

 

At last the kingdom was saved.

 

Fusco fought not to roll his eyes again. How did these idiots keep finding him? He was going to give the Knight Commander a piece of his mind the next time he was in the capitol. He thought the guy was going to tighten the requirements for command positions after the demonic bear debacle.

 

Unfortunately for Fusco, the matter at hand was entirely his to deal with. “So let me see if I understand.You found a bunch of dead bandits in the road?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And instead of reviving and questioning the only survivor, you had your men place an unknown entity on to the back of the secure wagon?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“The secure wagon transporting the king’s personal goods?” Not to mention their payroll. Fusco pointed behind him. “That secure wagon.”

 

“Well, when you put it that way,” He gulped. “Yes?”

 

Fusco stepped into his personal space, forcing the man to look up at him. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

 

“Telling you?”

 

An entire army and the stupid ones always found him. “You stay here.” Fusco grabbed the side of the wagon and began to boost himself up and inside.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“What you should have already done,” He grumbled in reply.

 

The back of the wagon was dim. The sunlight streaming in from the now open door could only do so much. Fusco shuffled forward, careful not to disturb the small crates on either side of him. He spared a glance for the lockbox he knew to be holding gold for he and his men. It appeared to be undisturbed.

 

Small miracle.

 

His target was at the very back of the small space. The body was entirely covered by a black cloak. Whoever the poor sap was, he didn’t appear to be breathing. Fusco crouched down beside him. The cloak’s hood shrouded the guy’s face. Fusco tensed his jaw. The first step would be getting a good look, see if he could at least identify the guy. He knew most of the locals running this side of the wood.

 

He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and then pulled back on the hood.

 

“Good morning, Lionel.”

 

“Gah!” Fusco stumbled back in alarm, nearly falling on his ass.

 

Root sat up and smiled at him. “It’s so nice to see you.”

 

“Can’t say the same, sister,” He grumbled once he recovered slightly from the shock of seeing her instead of a dead man.

 

“There’s no need to be impolite.” She stood up and stretched. Her head nearly scraped the top of the wagon. “After all, I thought we were friends.”

 

“Wouldn’t go that far.”

 

Root’s face fell into a pronounced pout. “Awe, that hurts.”

 

“You’ll recover.” If anything Root’s pout grew more severe at that. Fusco was immune to the expression. He turned his back on her and ambled out of the wagon.

 

The Lieutenant, who Fusco had forgotten up until that very moment, gaped at him. “You know the prisoner?”

 

“Can anyone really know the mad?” Fusco pondered. That question only made the other man appear more confused.

 

Root’s head poked out of the door. “Hello.” The Lieutenant stumbled backwards in surprise. Root blinked against the early morning sun. “Earlier than I thought.” She hopped down from the wagon. When she stood up she actually towered over the man, who was a good head shorter than Fusco. Root smiled down at him. “You made good time.”

 

“I-I…”

 

Fusco took pity on the bewildered fool. “I’ll handle our guest.” He was sure to stress that last word so Lieutenant Moron wouldn’t get anymore dumb ideas about taking Root into custody. Fusco inclined his head towards the barracks. “Go join your men.”

 

“Yes, Sir.” He nodded. “Thank you, Sir.” He scrambled away before Fusco could change his mind.

 

“You know, someone that skittish ought not to be in command,” Root mused.

 

“He’s fine,” Fusco grumbled, as if he hadn’t been questioning the man’s fitness for duty himself not that long ago. “Not every day a man runs into the likes of you.” Though what kind of idiot couldn’t tell the difference between Root and a man? Sister was a lunatic, but she was all woman.

 

Root beamed at him. “Is that a complement?”

 

He snorted. “Is it ever?”

 

“You can’t fool me, Lionel,” She bumped his side with her left hip. “I know you’ve grown to enjoy my company.”

 

Fusco scowled at her. “Does my demeanor say enjoyment to you?” Root blinked at him. He internally sighed. Must not try and reason with the Weird Sister. “You want to tell me what you’re up to?”

 

“Nothing sinister.”

 

“Why do I find that hard to believe?”

 

“I merely availed myself of the courtesy of your men.” Root shrugged. She gave the side of the wagon a pat. “Who am I to turn down a free ride?”

 

Oh that was rich. What kind of idiot did she take him for? “Give me a break.”

 

“Exactly!” She beamed. “I always said you were a bright one.”

 

“So what, you got sleepy while wandering the countryside and decided to lay down in the middle of the road until you could hitch a ride south?”

 

“Something like that,” She replied. Then she started doing side bends.

 

“You okay there?”

 

“Oh yes,” She nodded. Root pointed over her shoulder to the inside of the wagon. “It was a little cramped there in the back. Just need to stretch out a bit.”

 

“Right.” Of course she was. Stretching. Perfectly normal behavior. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Just for the record, there anything you want to tell me about the pile of bodies they found you with?”

 

“Oh they were real bandits. I simply happened across them prior to the caravan’s arrival.” She licked her lips, “Won’t be troubling you or anyone else ever again.”

 

“You know my guys could have handled them.”

 

“But I was right there, so there was no need to bother your men.”

 

That did have a bit of twisted logic. The last thing they needed were a bunch of hooligans harassing folk along the King’s roads while so many nobles were traveling to the capitol for the festival. “Thanks, I guess.”

 

“You’re very welcome, Lionel."

 

“Figured you’d be back in the city.” Big festival seemed right up the sister’s alley. He also remembered one summer when she had participated in the village’s bonfire. Girl enjoyed her celebrations. She could really hold her liquor for such a delicate looking thing.

 

“Had a little errand to run up north.”

 

“Do I want to know?”

 

She chuckled, “Probably not.”

 

“Tiny didn’t go with you?”

 

“Sameen had her own tasks which kept her away.”

 

“She doing alright?” Fusco hadn’t seen the Dragon Slayer in quite some time. He’d heard there had been a dustup with some assassins or something not too long ago. Given that Root was standing in front of him, acting like her crazy self, he assumed she was fine.

 

“She’s quite well, Lionel.” Root smiled, “I’ll be sure to tell her you said hello.”

 

“You’re not sticking around then?” Thank the gods. Solstice week was rowdy enough around here.

 

“As fond as I am of Turing Village, I really cannot dally.”

 

“Too bad,” He mockingly sighed.

 

“Admit it, you miss me.”

 

“Not the least little bit, Sister.” Root chuckled as she began to walk away. “Maybe next time take your own horse? Save me a headache?”

 

“Sage advice as always,” She replied. But then she stopped and started walking back towards him with a curious glint in her eyes.

 

He didn't like that look one bit. Fusco held up his hands, “I was kidding. You can borrow a horse any time.”

 

“I know.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I almost forgot it.” Fusco got the feeling she wasn’t talking to him. Root reached into the wagon and hauled out a scroll case. She slipped its strap over her head. Then she smiled at him, “Now if you don’t actually mind my borrowing a horse, I have a party to get to.”

 

 


	2. A Catalyst Is Never Late (Not even a former one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why do people keep saying she's going to be late? The damn thing hasn't even started yet. Root's the one who's late!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay wow you guys I'm a bit overwhelmed from all the "yay you're back" comments on the first chapter. I never went away really. These things just take a while to plot and write out (because I'm a dork). I'm not planning on leaving Root and Shaw any time soon. I am such a garbage person for them it's not even funny. I have a notepad with a bunch of scribbled ideas for fics. Eventually this tag is just going to be me posting random Catalyst one shots and fix its for S5. But I appreciate all the love you all seem to have for this crazy little AU.   
> Any way early post today as I have huge Valentines Day plans to go see Lego Batman (yes I am an adult). I hope you all have a wonderful day, or at least get a ton of candy on discount tomorrow.

 

Something in Shaw stilled when she had a hammer in her hand. All the annoying buzz and chatter went away. The near rhythmic strike of the hammer on the anvil put her into a trance of sorts. The world narrowed to her and her work.

 

“Damn it, Root.”

 

At least that’s how things typically went.

 

Not even Shaw’s third favorite hobby could drive away the thoughts that were plaguing her this afternoon. She brought her hammer down against a length of glowing red steel. It would be a fine dagger. She dropped the hammer again, sending a few sparks flying from the anvil. If she didn’t ruin it in her frustration.

 

Her betrothed had gone off on a mission for her god two weeks ago. Shaw hadn’t exactly been completely on board with Root setting out on her own, given the fact that she was still adjusting to life with only one functioning ear. Root had argued that she wasn’t going to let an injury keep her from serving the kingdom. The counter argument being that she had barely recovered from said injury. Shaw had eventually relented, however, after a long talk with Ser Reese and several bottles of ale.

 

But she had made Root swear to stick to a strict timeline. Her mission should have been a simple one. Pick up a packet of information on Decima troop movements from one of their spies waiting just south of the border, and get back to the capitol in plenty of time for the week long Solstice Festival. In turn she swore to Root that she’d let the woman take on this task completely on her own. Shaw wouldn’t interfere. Shaw wouldn’t convince anyone else to interfere either. It seemed like a fair trade at the time.

 

Except Root had yet to return. The festival began that very night. She should have been back days ago. There had been no word. No sign if she was alright or if she was in trouble. The damn dragon in Root’s head hadn’t even sent King Harold a dream hello recently.

 

Shaw struck the anvil once again. She was alone in her musings. Dani Silva, the current master of this forge, was off visiting family for the holiday. Shaw had let herself in about mid-morning, still having a key to the business she had started with Cole years ago.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

Speak of the devil. Shaw looked up to see Cole standing in the doorway leading to the small shop attached to the forge. She lifted the hammer. “Gee I don’t know.”

 

He shuffled his feet. Shaw’s eyes narrowed. Were those new boots? “Alright I know what you’re doing,” He relented. “I just don’t understand why you’re doing it right now.”

 

“What else should I be doing?” She could be riding out to find Root. She’d considered it quite often the past day or so. But that would be going back on a promise.

 

Cole shook his head. “Veronica already has about an hour’s work into her hair. I know you don’t go in for all that fancy stuff but…”

 

“Hair?” Shaw cocked an eyebrow. She turned and using a set of tongs shoved the hot blade into a nearby trough of water to cool it. “What are you blathering about?”

 

“Don’t you have to get ready for the ball?”

 

She looked up at the windows lining the ceiling of the smithy. The sunlight was much weaker than when she had started her work. “Crap.”

 

Cole’s jaw was hanging open a bit. “You forgot?” He sputtered.

 

“No, I just didn’t realize how late it was getting.”

 

“You mean how late you were?”

 

“Shut it.” She untied the padded leather apron she wore over her clothes. “I’m not late.”

 

“You’re going to be if you don’t get out of here.”

 

She hung the apron on a peg jutting out from the wall. That done, Shaw spun around to glare at him, “Don’t you think I know that?”

 

Cole looked Shaw up and down. The threadbare tunic she wore was stained with sweat. Her arms, which were bare, held winding trails of gray and black soot spanning their length. He wasn’t even going to try and contemplate the time it would take to wash the combination of soot and sweat from her hair. Adding in that she’d have to get back to the palace to do it however long that was?

 

“Go on. I’ll clean this up.”

 

Shaw paused in gathering up her various tools. “You sure?”

 

Cole nodded. It wasn’t much and she’d need all the time she could get. “Unlike some people, no one cares when I show up to this thing.”

 

“Good point.”

 

 

He rolled his eyes. “Try not to stab anyone on the way.”

 

“If no one gets in my way, no one will get stabbed.” With that she was out the door.

 

The streets were already busy. Shaw knew the crowds would only grow more massive as the week went on. The Solstice Festival was a major event in Thornhill. There were banquets and revelries every night. The air above the market was perfumed with the smells of roasting meat and baking bread. Candles and effigies of the old gods were placed in practically every window.

 

Shaw shoved her way between bodies. She sidestepped pushcarts laden down with various delicacies. She scowled at anyone who attempted to speak to her. Bobbed and weaved through the crowd of revelers with a level of skill honed through hours of training on the guild’s most difficult obstacle courses. But it was still as if she were slogging through tar.

 

It was taking her twice as long to get half as far, with the streets so congested. Shaw spared another glance at the sky. The sun was dipping towards the mountains now. Tendrils of orange and pink were taking over the sky. If she didn’t pick up the pace somehow she actually would be late. That would be cause for several lectures she in no way wanted to hear.

 

Fortunately for Shaw, the bakery on this corner had a woodshed around back. That woodshed was just tall enough for her to reach the ledge of the window on the second floor. She waved at the Baker’s startled wife before jumping up from that ledge and grabbing the side of the roof. A quick pull up and she was well above the crowds.

 

“Losers,” She grumbled as she looked down one last time at the teeming mass of bodies in the square. She broke into a sprint. Just before she reached the edge of the roof, Shaw shifted her weight and leapt into the air. She landed on the next building over, barely breaking her momentum. She smirked. She had a clear path almost the entire way to the palace now.

 

Shaw slipped into the castle through one of the servant’s entrances near the kitchens. The smell of tonight’s dinner wafting through the air caused her to salivate. It was a reminder that there were some definite perks to this whole knighthood thing. The Head Cook gave her a hearty hello as she passed the ovens. “Ser Shaw! You’re cutting it close.”

 

She shook her head at the woman. “I’m fine.” She’d run down to the baths and be ready in no time at all.

 

“I hope so, as I got that shipment off of the Widow’s Tear.”

 

Shaw side stepped a scullery maid carrying a basket nearly overflowing with carrots. “The berries?”

 

The woman nodded. “There’ll be plenty of those ruby tarts you like.”

 

Shaw smiled as she pushed open the door leading out of the kitchen. “I don’t care what they say. You’re the real champion around here.”

 

“Go on with ya!”

 

The hallway outside of the kitchens was almost as crowded as the city’s streets. Servants working in every part of the palace were milling about, picking up supplies, bringing down requests from their guests, going over plans for the evening. Every one of the nodded respectfully to Shaw as they crossed her path. Fortunately, it did seem that they also had picked up on her haste as none attempted to engage her further than said respectful nods.

 

Shaw was able to round the corner from the kitchens and trot down a small side hallway leading to a staircase that led down to the lower levels of the palace where the bathing chambers were housed. She took the stairs two at a time. She wasn’t late but she was starting to smell a bit, given how much she had exerted herself that afternoon. She’d need a good scrub before having to be in polite company that was for sure.

 

When she reached the bottom of the stairs she shoved open a large set of doors. The baths were on the other end of this floor. She’d have to pass the laundry to get to the other side. The air down here was humid due to the hot springs that supplied the baths and washing areas.

 

As this level contained the laundry, it also housed all of the palace’s spare linens. Servants were rushing about collecting what they’d need to supply the guest quarters over the next few days. She snagged a pair of towels from a pile being assembled as she passed.

 

She could hear one of the assistant stewards going over room assignments with three of the maids as she approached their position. “Lord Mahoney and his family won’t arrive until midweek. We just received word that Lord Ogilvie will not be attending this year. Lord Pierce is in the blue room.”

 

The group nodded to Shaw as she passed. “Your tall boots have been polished and returned to your rooms,” One of the women called out.

 

“Thanks,” Shaw replied. That was one thing she didn’t have to worry with tonight. She smirked. Late her ass. She was gaining back time already.

 

Zoe was just stepping out of the bath when Shaw shoved her way into the private bathing chamber reserved for the king’s closest family and advisors. “Cutting it a little close?” Why did people keep saying that?

 

Shaw tossed her pilfered towels onto one of the benches lining the pool. “Plenty of time,” She huffed as she pulled her sweat-soaked tunic over her head. She threw it to the floor and bent half over to begin unlacing her boots.

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“Not like you’re dressed either, Zoe.”

 

“Yes, but I’ve been working all afternoon.” She and Carter had been putting in long hours for weeks to make sure this event went off without a hitch. Tonight would be the culmination of a great deal of effort on both their parts. Carter had finished her bath not too long ago. Zoe had opted to soak a tiny bit longer. Though she did need to make her way upstairs soon.

 

“Right.” Shaw’s tone implied exactly what she thought of the work of party planning.

 

“And I have people waiting in my suite to help me.” She shook her head. Shaw always turned down having any dressers. Zoe cocked her head to the side in thought, “You know for an assassin you can be awfully modest…”

 

“Not about that,” Shaw huffed. Though Root did tend to threaten to pluck the eyes out of anyone she suspected of sneaking a peak at Shaw’s natural form. No sense in encouraging that sort of behavior. Besides, “I’m perfectly capable of putting on my own breeches.”

 

Zoe made a choking noise. “Breeches?” One would think she’d be used to Shaw’s particular sense of fashion by now. “You’re wearing breeches tonight?” She sputtered.Apparently she wasn’t.

 

“Don’t act so scandalized.” She had no idea why Zoe was getting so riled about this. “You know I look damn good in anything.”

 

“But breeches? Tonight?”

 

Shaw ignored her questions, seeing as the answers were obvious. “You see Root yet?”

 

“No,” Zoe replied as she gathered the rest of her things into her arms. “Seems neither of you understand the concept of being on time.”

 

“I’m not late.” The damn thing hadn’t even started yet. How could she possibly be late?

 

“Yet.”

 

“At all,” Shaw grumbled as she kicked off the pants she was currently wearing. “It doesn’t take me nearly as long as you to get ready even with your little helpers.”

 

“Only because you don’t care about proper court fashion.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. Zoe really needed to stop harping on that. “If Root can’t get me into a corset, there’s no way you’re going to guilt me into it by declaring it proper.”

 

“When did Root try to…” Zoe held up a hand. “You know what, I don’t want to know.” She turned towards the door. She heard a small splash as she grasped the handle. “The ball begins in a little over an hour,” She called over her shoulder. “You have about an hour and a half before Gen is expected to make her entrance.” Shaw was to be the princess’ escort for her arrival. They were taking shifts providing close security for her and the king tonight. Even among friends one could never be too careful.

 

“Plenty of time,” Shaw replied. “I’ll probably be ready before the kid.”

 

“At least dry your hair,” Zoe huffed. “Lord Merriweather went on for hours last time about your dripping on his boots.”

 

“That shriveled old husk wishes someone would drip around him.”

 

Zoe spun around to glare at her. “That’s revolting.”

 

Shaw was, as usual, wholly unbothered by her display. She shrugged as she began to soap up her arms and chest.The water around her had already begun to hold a slightly gray tint from the ash floating away from her skin. “Where is the lie?”

 

“Dry your damn hair.”

 

“Yes, mother.” Zoe slammed the door in reply. “What’s got her smalls in a bunch?”

 

An hour later Shaw gave herself one last once over in the large looking glass Root had insisted on keeping in their suite. She had wound her hair into a neat, utilitarian plait (And yes, she had dried it.). Her breeches were snow white, without a single wrinkle or smudge. Her under tunic was made of lightweight, black silk in deference to the summer heat. Even at this hour it was still quite warm. Over the tunic she wore a sleeveless surcoat embroidered with her coat of arms over the left breast in indigo thread.

 

She buckled a light cloak over her shoulders, also black. Her knee-high boots were polished to within an inch of their life. Even the knife she tucked down the back of the left one, had been given a good shine. As had the short sword that rested on her hip.

 

“I look good.”

 

The grand ballroom was on the opposite side of the palace from the newly renovated royal wing. The King’s chambers had originally been on the same side, but when Harold decided to make some alterations to the place he moved the family quarters to a more secure location on Ser Reese’s advice. Shaw had wholeheartedly agreed with the move. It was past time for the guy to get serious about security. But on nights like this one, the longer trip was sort of a pain in the ass.

 

She had begun the journey across the palace walking, but as the minutes passed Shaw eventually broke into a light jog. The hallways on this floor were thankfully empty for the most part. The guests were only allowed to enter the ballroom from the doors on the lower level. In fact, Shaw didn’t encounter anyone else until she slid to a stop in a small chamber just outside the doors to the second level of the ballroom.

 

Gen looked like she had been attacked by a herd of rabid silkworms. Shaw tilted her head to the side. How many ruffles did one dress need? Had she been temporarily blinded when she put it on earlier? Would the thing attack Shaw if she stood too close? So many questions.

 

The girl must have discerned something in Shaw’s gaze because she immediately spoke up with, “I promised Uncle Harry I’d wear it.”

 

“You look like a meringue.” Gen glared at her. Damn it. That was Shaw putting things nicely… ish. She attempted a bit of damage control. “What? It’s all the ruffles.”

 

“When I’m Queen...”

 

“Pants only,” Shaw finished the familiar refrain. She’d heard it often enough. “You know that’s the one edict of yours I support all the way.”

 

“Not Bear’s knighthood?” The princess smirked.

 

“The second edict then.” Bear had more than earned a little recognition. The wolf was more useful than half the men in the king’s army and more handsome besides.

 

“You ready for this?” Gen asked with a smile. She knew Shaw had drawn the short straw on this one. The Dragon Slayer hated all the attention an entrance like this would garner. But Ser Reese and her uncle had both thought that given the size of the crowd they expected for this opening ball that close security was needed.

 

“As I’ll ever be.” Shaw held out her arm for the girl. Gen stepped to her side and looped her right arm through Shaw’s left.

 

“You seen your sister?”

 

“No, have you?”

 

“Would I have asked you that if I had?”

 

“She’ll be here,” Gen replied with absolute conviction. “She loves the festival.”

 

Shaw snorted, “She loves all the dirt she can dig up on people during the festival.”

 

“Exactly. There’s no way she’d miss it.”

 

Shaw nodded. Gen hoped that her words had provided some level of reassurance. Not that the fierce knight would admit to needing any. Though everyone and Bear knew that if Shaw was capable of worrying about anything, it was Root.

 

The servants manning the doors waved them forward. Gen took a deep breath. “Do I really look like a pastry?”

 

Shaw decided it was better to be honest at this juncture. “I wouldn’t stand too close to the dessert table.”

 

Gen groaned as the doors were opened. They stepped onto a large balcony overlooking the ballroom. The cavernous space was packed. It appeared that more people had shown up than predicted. They stopped to wave to the crowd below as Gen was formally announced.

 

“Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess Genrika.”

 

A raucous cheer rose up from the crowd. Gen was well loved by her people. The Herald waited until the noise was down to a dull roar before speaking again. “And her escort, Champion of Thornhill, Dragon Slayer.” He took a breath, “Ser Shaw, Duchess of Groves.”

 

“What the hell?” Shaw hissed. The noise of the crowd thankfully covered up the additional curses that fell from her lips soon thereafter.

 

“It’s not like we can formally announce Root under the title,” Gen replied through her smiling teeth, as she continued to wave to the crowd.

 

“So that doesn’t mean she can just foist it on me.”

 

Gen risked turning her head to glance at her escort. “You’re engaged, Shaw. Didn’t you realize that came with a title?”

 

“It hasn’t the past few years.” Of course she and Root generally didn’t get announced at such events. Actually, Root was never announced, tending to simply appear at events at random, and Shaw’s formal titles were only discussed when she competed at tourney.

 

“I think Uncle Harry is trying to legitimize your ties to the throne.” Gen nudged her with her elbow so they could begin descending the stairs. “Either that or John is fucking with you.”

 

“Language.”

 

“You say fuck all the time.” Gen’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve heard me say it. I said it this morning when we were training, probably a good baker’s dozen worth of times, and you didn’t snap about my language then.”

 

“That was then,” Shaw grumbled. After a breath she added, “It’s weird when you say it wearing a tiara.”

 

“You mean to tell me my sister has never…”

 

Shaw reached over and dug her fingers into the girl’s arm. “I’m going to stop you right there before you say something you’ll regret.”

 

“Noted,” Gen squeaked.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. It was going to be a long night.


	3. The Party Dont Start Till The Duchess Of Groves Walks In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now it's a party!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited this on allergy meds so apologies if anything is weird.

 

Shaw saw Gen safely through the receiving line. Guests were marched through to thank the royals for hosting the ball. Shaw had never seen such a collection of fancy dressed ass kissers in her entire life. And what was worse was that some of them wanted to talk to her. One idiot even proposed marriage right there in the line. Reese smirked at her the entire time as he stood guard behind King Harold. Smug bastard. He would rue this day. She gladly handed the princess over to Zoe once the last noble stumbled through the line.

 

Now semi-released from duty, Shaw had to find some way to occupy herself. She had been told in no uncertain terms that she could not skip out early. Reese was going to rue that too. First, she completed a perimeter sweep. Then she thoroughly inspected the refreshment tables for any signs of poison. The tarts Cook had mentioned earlier were examined three times, with another review pending, just to be safe. She artfully dodged any attempts along the way to draw her into so called polite conversation.

 

That killed all of an hour. Shaw pursed her lips. She scanned the crowd for some type of diversion. Carter was speaking to Lord Elias. The man responsible for half the black market trade in the city and the woman responsible for keeping law and order. To this day Shaw wasn’t sure how that particular friendship worked. She noticed that Baron Yogorov was paying the pair a suspicious amount of attention. She made a mental note to bring that up with Carter tomorrow.

 

“Pardon me your grace.”

 

“I will cut you,” Shaw growled as she turned around.

 

“Duchess,” Cole smirked.

 

“Shut it.”

 

Of course he did not in fact shut it. “When did that happen?”

 

“A few years ago apparently,” Shaw drawled as she snatched a goblet of wine from a passing servant’s tray. She drained half the cup in one gulp. “They keep tacking the damn titles on.”

 

“Only a matter of time before I’m calling you princess.”

 

“And that will be the last breath that ever comes out of your mouth.” She waved to one of the serving girls for more wine.

 

“I don’t think you can murder the entire kingdom for doing it though.”

 

“I can try,” Shaw grumbled. Surely after the first fifty eviscerations the rest would get the message.

 

“Face it Sam, someday you’re going to be too fancy to speak to the likes of me,” Cole chuckled.

 

“I was already too fancy for that.” Shaw managed to smile at the girl who topped off the wine in her cup. When Cole declined a refill, she turned to leave. Shaw reached out before the girl could stray too far and wrapped her fingers around the neck of the bottle. “On second thought take the cup, I’ll just go with the bottle.” She shoved her goblet into the confused girl’s free hand and pulled the bottle from her grasp.

 

“Yes, you are the picture of class.” Cole shook his head before taking a sip from his own cup. “At least Veronica will still be able to get me into the parties, once you’ve forgotten your old friend.”

 

“Where is your drastically better half?” Shaw glanced around. She didn’t think Veronica was among the staff that was working the event this evening. In fact, if she remembered correctly, King Harold had told her to attend the event with her husband as a guest.

 

“In one of the sitting rooms. She got a bit over heated waiting in the crowd earlier.” He rubbed the dusting of stubble along his jaw. “I didn’t want to leave her alone, but she told me to come back out here to congratulate you on your big entrance.”

 

“She should be fine,” Shaw assured him. “Now that the sun’s down things should cool off a bit.” Also the fact that the floor to ceiling doors on the southern side of the ballroom were standing wide open to allow in the evening breeze from the balcony overlooking the gardens.

 

“So word on the street is King Harold is announcing something big tonight. I’m assuming that it’s not your new title.”

 

Shaw snorted. “Word on the street?”

 

“Veronica may have heard something,” Cole allowed. “But she wouldn’t tell me what it is.”

 

“We’re lucky that wife of yours is loyal.” Veronica had a way of being in the right place at the right time for all kinds of gossip around the palace. Zoe ought to look into employing her as an informant if she didn’t already. Woman would probably pick up all sorts of useful information while working the visitor’s quarters during this little gathering.

 

“So there is something?” Shaw shrugged. “Oh come on tell me!” Gods he was such a child sometimes.

 

“No,” She smirked.

 

Cole seemed to perk up. “I’ll just get Root to tell me.”

 

“Good luck finding her.”

 

He pointed at something behind Shaw. “That’s her right there.” He squinted, “At least I think that’s her.”

 

She spun around. Sure enough a red head in a black dress, who looked suspiciously like Root, was walking towards them. She was carrying a large basket. Shaw scowled, “Of all the…”

 

“Don’t we both look handsome.” Root did that stupid half squint, half wink thing.

 

“You look, ah different,” Cole replied. He was staring at her wig with something akin to horror in his eyes. Shaw had to agree. That thing was hideous now that she could see it up close.

 

Root handed the basket in her hand to Cole. “Veronica is still feeling a bit peakish. There’s a carriage waiting for the two of you outside.”

 

“Oh? Thank you.” He looked down at the basket in his hand. He wasn’t sure what it was for.

 

Root picked up on his confusion. “She’ll be fine. Though I doubt she’ll feel like cooking in the morning.”

 

He nodded. “You’re right about that.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I should go.” He nodded to Shaw. “Try not to cause a scandal? My wife will kill us both if she misses anything good.”

 

Shaw held up her hands, “Best behavior.” Veronica could be a terror if she missed out on good gossip. She wouldn’t wish that on her friend if she could do anything to help it.

 

“I’ll hold you to that, Duchess.” He slipped away before Shaw could take a swing at him for that parting shot.

 

“Alone at last,” Root sighed. “I missed you terribly.”

 

It was an attempt to be charming. A tactic Shaw was well familiar with. Bat those doe eyes. Say something sentimental. She’d follow it up with an overt come on in a moment. All to lull Shaw into passivity.But Root wasn’t going to charm her way out of this one.

 

“You're late.” Shaw squinted. Root had covered the scar on her cheek somehow in addition to the silly wig. Just what was she playing at now?

 

“Am I?” Root flicked a lock of unnaturally bright red hair over her shoulder. “I rather thought I was right on time.”

 

“Or in other words late,” Shaw scowled. Root should have been back three days ago. She wasn’t going to let her get away with being flippant about it now. “You know what I thought about your going alone in the first place…”

 

“I’ve got to get my feet wet sometime.”

 

“Which is why I trusted you to go on your own.” Under protest of course. “But then you decided to reward that trust by being late.”

 

“Sameen,” Root sighed, there was nothing coy about it this time. “I fully intended to return as scheduled, but then there was a herd of carnivorous sheep near Bayard Village that She needed me to take care of.”

 

Carnivorous sheep? “Seriously?”

 

Root smiled proudly. “Your new winter cloak is going to be spectacular.” She tilted her head in thought, “If Daizo and I can determine how to remove the bloodstains.”

 

“Fine,” Shaw huffed. That story was too random to be a lie. “What's with the wig then?”

 

She fluffed it again. It didn’t help matters. “I had to establish my cover. Sara, by the way, is a cook.”

 

“You’re kidding.”

 

She shrugged. “I highly recommend the carrot soup.”

 

“Half the people in here know your face.”

 

“It’s the other half that concerns me.” Root grinned, “Besides, don’t you like the new look?”

 

“No.”

 

“Honestly?”

 

Shaw’s mouth was open before she could think the better of it, “I like when you look like you.”

 

Root beamed at her, “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing?” She grabbed Shaw’s right wrist. “Come on.”

 

“What, is something happening?”

 

“There’s an alcove behind that tapestry over there.” She began tugging Shaw through the crowd in the direction of said tapestry.

 

Shaw slid her free hand to the hilt of her sword. “Someone in there?”

 

“We’re going to be in about three minutes.”

 

“An ambush?”

 

Root stopped and looked at Shaw for a moment. Then she shook her head. “Too easy,” She muttered to herself. “Have you been drinking, Sweetie?” Shaw held up her half empty bottle of wine. “That your first one?”

 

“I am more than capable of kicking a little ass after a few drinks.”

 

Root chuckled. “You are so adorable when you make that affronted face. No one’s ass is getting kicked.”

 

“I’m still not following.”

 

“Don’t worry, Sameen,” Root breezily replied. “I’ll be doing all the work.”

 

“But you just said…”

 

“There you are, Shaw.”

 

Root sighed and stopped walking. “So close.”

 

“To what?”

 

“I’ll explain it to you later. You’ll enjoy it.” Root leaned over and nipped Shaw’s ear. “I’ll be very hands on.”

 

The flint finally sparked. “Oh.” Shaw glanced over as Zoe drew nearer. “We could make a break for that alcove you mentioned.”

 

“Sadly, our moment has passed.”

 

“Damn it.” Root chuckled at her girl’s exclamation. Though she in no way disagreed.

 

Zoe chuckled too once she got a good look at Root. “What poor creature gave its life for that ugly thing on your head?”

 

“I think it looks quite natural.”

 

“Natural like several squirrels are building a nest up there?”

 

“Cute.”

 

“Unlike what you’re trying to pass off as a wig,” She countered.

 

“I do so love our little chats, Zoe. Was there something you wanted?”

 

“I was coming to keep Shaw company seeing as no one knew when you’d show up, and John and Carter have to be on stage soon.”

 

“Well, I’m here now so Sameen doesn’t need another playmate.”

 

“True, but then I saw that thing on your head and decided it was my duty to shame you for it.”

 

Shaw almost snorted her wine through her nose. Root glared at her. “It’s not your best look.”

 

“You two have no sense of style.”

 

“Not a drop,” Shaw agreed. If that thing equaled style she’d gladly not have a bit of it in or on her body. Root could make anything look good, including that stupid wig. But Shaw had no clue why she thought wearing that thing would be a good idea.

 

“Lords and Ladies. Honored guests!” A voice cried out over the den of the crowd. A man was standing on the stage just in front of the dais where King Harold and Gen were now seated. “If we might have your attention.”

 

A murmur ran through the crowd, swiftly followed by the thump of drums. “Oh good it’s starting.”

 

“What’s starting?”

 

Zoe scoffed, “You didn’t pay attention in any of the planning meetings did you?”

 

“I’m still trying to figure out why I was included in those after the security briefing.” Matching linens were so not Shaw’s area of expertise. Smashing heads? Great. Opinions on the menu? Shaw was your girl. The proper shade of green to match the table cloths to the wall hangings? Twenty minutes of that and Shaw had contemplated skipping the tapestries and hanging a few of her friends around the ballroom.

 

Zoe tilted her head, considering it. “Now that you mention it…”

 

“Doesn’t make a bit of sense?” Shaw finished for her.

 

“Uncle Harry just wants you to feel included, Sweetie.”

 

“I could stand to be less included, for the record.”

 

“Hush, you’ll miss it.” The sound of drums grew louder. The doors on the western side of the ballroom were flung open. The crowd gasped. Shaw rolled her eyes.

 

The crowd began to part. Shaw could see a large, black shape moving towards them. The drum beat was joined by the blasts of several horns.

 

“In the beginning the universe was infinite, chaotic, and cold.” As the black shape drew closer Shaw realized that it was the stylized form of a dragon. A dancing one. “The Great Wyrm traversed the heavens searching for his purpose.”

 

“The hell is this?” Shaw hissed.

 

“The Song of the Seven,” Root replied in a hushed tone. “You haven’t heard it before?”

 

She had. Of course she had. But Shaw could honestly say she had never witnessed a telling complete with interpretive dancing. “Not like this.”

 

“It was Uncle Harry’s idea. He wanted to do things big this year, raise morale.”

 

Shaw sought out the man in question. The dais where King Harold and Gen were seated was set high enough that the royals could be observed clearly from the entirety of the ballroom. As Shaw glared up at the king, he shifted in his seat. She’d like to think that he could feel the burn of her gaze, but knowing Harold, it was probably gas. “Your uncle is just full of surprises tonight.”

 

The ‘dragon’ continued to weave through the crowd until it reached the area in front of the small stage. It began moving in a circle, pushing the people back. Everyone shuffled and moved until a ring of space about twenty paces wide each way was cleared around the stage. Somehow it worked out that their little trio was only one row back in the crowd.

 

The same man from before called out, “The Great Wyrm grew weary.”

 

“I know the feeling,” Shaw huffed.

 

“But it was in that moment of weakness that inspiration struck. For if the wyrm could not find a true purpose, then he would create one.”

 

The “dragon” began spinning in circles pushing the crowd back a few more paces from the stage. “He gathered the stardust around him and formed a ball. Then he drew his breath and set fire in the sky above.”

 

A torrent of actual flame burst from its mouth. The crowd gasped. Shaw rolled her eyes. These people were far too easily impressed.

 

“He plucked out his right eye and hung it among the stars opposite, so that there might always be some light shining upon his new world.”

 

“His blood filled the rivers and the lakes. Life flowed across the surface until the world was filled with green growing things.”

 

“The Great Wrym grew weak. He fell upon the earth and mountains rose in his wake.” The fabricated dragon dropped to the floor in front of the stage. “He could no longer go on in his present form.” The thing slumped over as if it were dying.

 

The drums picked up their pace. “And that was when the seven were born.”

 

Someone stood up from the pile of black fabric. “The first was The Oracle.” A tall, willowy figure in green robes glided towards the crowd. A full hood and mask obscured their features from view. The only part of them Shaw could make out were their eyes.

 

The drums softened, the pipers began to play an airy melody. The Oracle twirled and hopped to the music. She rose up on her toes and spun in dizzying circles. She flittered about the ring as if she were floating on a breeze. The crowd laughed and cheered her every move. Eventually her dance brought her to the edge of the stage.

 

As soon as the first figure reached the small staircase leading up to the stage, the pipes faded away and the music grew harsh once again. Another figure rose from the ‘body’ with a roar. “The second was The Ravager.” These robes were white with lines of red down the back.

 

The pattern was familiar. “Samaritan,” Shaw growled.

 

“Always a bit of a diva,” Root nodded beside her.

 

The Samaritan stand in stomped and roared. While the first dance was all grace, this one was sound and fury. He lunged at the crowd and beat his chest. In turn he was greeted with a round of boos. He traded roars and jeers with the crowd for a bit, before joining the first actor on the stage.

 

Four additional robed and hooded actors eventually appeared. There was one in black, but with one red stripe down their side from shoulder to ankle. That one had a twin, wearing red robes with a black stripe. A shorter figure appeared in all blue. A tall burly one in silver.

 

And then a final figure rose from the remains. “Then came the last, The Reaper.” No music accompanied this one. The actor dressed as The Reaper was covered from head to toe in black robes. The room was eerily silent as the actor simply walked to the stage. “With that the Great Wyrm was no more, the first to fall under The Reaper’s thrall.”

 

Shaw leaned up on her toes slightly to whisper into Root’s ear, “Are they going to do the whole thing?” The poem had about two hundred and fifty stanzas. Shaw was going to need another bottle, if she was expected to stand around while these jokers danced the entire thing out.

 

“You have somewhere better to be, Sam?” Yes, she did. Behind a certain tapestry.

 

One of the nobles in front of them glared over his shoulder. “Shhh.”

 

Shaw gave him a particularly rude gesture in reply. She smirked as he looked away. Root suppressed a chuckle at her lady’s antics.

 

“She was feared because she brought death. But new buds are also fed from the remnants of dying leaves.”

 

“Seriously, I am not standing through the entire thing.”

 

“They’re not going to do the entire thing,” Zoe huffed. “At least I don’t think they are.”

 

“They won’t,” Root assured them.

 

“These young gods each had an important role to play in the new world. For a time, they worked together in harmony. But eventually power corrupted some of them.”

 

Shaw snorted, “Bet Samaritan was first.”

 

The hooded figures began to dance around each other on the stage. “The gods began to wage war against one another. Man and beast rose up to fight under their banners out of love, and fear.”

 

“But then one day, one man changed everything…” The speaker paused as if waiting for something. “One man changed everything,” He repeated, this time raising his voice.

 

Shaw glanced over at Root, “How much is your uncle paying these idiots?”

 

“He’s not…”

 

“That explains it.”

 

“One man…”

 

“Stop!” A new voice cried out. A figure covered head to toe in black plate armor stumbled out of the crowd and towards the stage.

 

Root’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not historically accurate.”

 

“We’re worried about accuracy now?”

 

“Facts are important.”

 

“Shhh!” It was the same man that had shhh’d them before.

 

Shaw took a half step forward. “You shhh her one more time and I’m going to force feed you your testicles.”

 

Root took her by the elbow, “Sweetie.”

 

Shaw ignored her, pointing at her eyes and then back at the man. He gulped and spun back around. “That’s what I thought.”

 

“Line,” The man in black called out when he finally climbed on to the stage. The crowd grumbled. “Line,” He tried again. “Really, no one, not one single soul knows it?” The man’s shoulders slumped. “Screw it.” He raised the lance in his hand and hit the figure in blue robes over the head with it. “Ha!”

 

The figure in blue fell to the ground after three additional strikes to the head. The man in black threw the now broken lance to the ground. “It’s dead.”

 

“Uh,” The narrator coughed. “And so with that, one man proved that the gods could be killed, changing the world as humanity knew it forever.”

 

“And I’m about to do it again,” The man in black announced as he removed his helm and also threw it to the stage floor with a clank. “I think we’re done with story time.” He waved the actors away from the stage. Two of them stopped to assist the one in blue in standing.

 

“Good evening good people of Thornhill,” He smiled. “I am Lord Logan Pierce. It may surprise you to know that I am not in fact a professional actor.”

 

“No, really,” Shaw scoffed. Zoe chuckled beside her.

 

“I’m here tonight because King Harry and I have something special in the works.” He turned slightly to look back to where the king was seated. “Wait, did you want to tell them?”

 

King Harold gaped at him.

 

“Oh well cat’s out of the bag now, right?” Lord Pierce laughed. “Like I said, I’m about to change the world. A lucky few of you are going to be invited to a little demonstration tomorrow.” Intrigued murmurs began to rise from the crowd. “And the rest of you will be hearing all about it shortly thereafter I’m sure.”

 

“Now, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I need a drink.” With that Lord Pierce stumbled off stage. After a moment, a weary looking King Harold waved for the band to begin playing again.

 

“That,” Shaw pointed at the now vacant stage, “Is why inbreeding is generally discouraged.”

 

“He wasn’t that bad.”

 

“Trained monkeys could do better.”

 

“I did see something similar in a traveling menagerie once,” Root idly noted. “Though the one they had playing Samaritan tried to hump all of the other ones.” She lowered her voice, “It’s a show of dominance you know.”

 

“Don’t start,” Shaw grumbled. She had a pretty good idea where this was going. She took another swig from her bottle. It was feeling awfully light all of the sudden. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Just don’t even.”

 

“As enlightening as this turn of conversation is,” Zoe pointed towards the dais, “I’m going to go make sure John’s head hasn’t exploded.”

 

“The talk of monkeys made you think of him?” Root smirked. “That’s so adorable.”

 

Zoe simply shook her head and walked away. Root scrunched up her face. “She’s so sensitive sometimes.”

 

The crowd began to break up into smaller clumps of nobles. A few began to pair off to dance now that the music was playing again. Root and Shaw glided between and around them, after Shaw suggested another perimeter check. Her partner wisely kept her mouth shut when the time came to examine the desserts for signs of poison again.

 

“Cook should be given a medal,” Shaw mumbled around a mouthful of crust. “Gen should put that on her proclamations list.”

 

“Before or after pants for everyone?”

 

“Depends on how many more dresses like that your uncle cons her into wearing.”

 

Root wrinkled her nose as she caught sight of her little sister dancing with Lady Carter’s son, Taylor. “She looks like a meringue.”

 

“That’s what I said.”

 

Root trailed her fingers across Shaw’s shoulder and down her arm until she could entwine their fingers. “What do you say we go hop in my favorite alcove?”

 

“You have a favorite alcove?”

 

That’s what Shaw took from that statement? Root clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Sweetie, I’m not really sure why you’re focusing on that point.”

 

“Because,” Shaw stepped fully into her personal space and lowered her voice, “You’re kinda hot when you’re annoyed.”

 

“We have that in common.”

 

“Root,” Shaw breathed. “You know I’m hot all the time.”

 

“True, but you’ll be hotter in about five minutes.”

 

“Bet we can make it there in three.”

 

“Two if we don’t stop for another bottle of wine.”

 

“Then why are we wasting time standing here, Princess?”

 

“Dragon Slayer!”

 

Shaw shook her head. “No.”

 

Root sighed as she stepped backwards putting a more respectable amount of distance between them. “We’re skipping the flirty banter next time.”

 

“Agreed.”

 

“Dragon Slayer,” Lord Pierce cried out again, arms spread wide. He had removed the stage armor and was now wearing a lavender doublet over dove grey breeches.

 

“Can I stab him?” Shaw asked under her breath.

 

“Not tonight, Sweetie,” Root replied just as the nobleman was about to reach them.

 

Shaw tipped the last trace of wine from the bottle into her mouth. “I’m going to need another one of these, or you know what? Let’s skip right to the barrel.”

 

“Ah a woman after my own heart,” Lord Pierce remarked. “Fights hard. Drinks hard.” By the smell, the man had been doing more than his share of hard drinking already.

 

“Punches harder,” Shaw grumbled.

 

“Pardon?”

 

Root stepped in before she could repeat herself. “That was quite the entrance milord.”

 

“I know,” He grinned. “But what I don’t know is who you are my lady.”

 

This time Shaw was the one speaking up. “My guest.” She didn’t like the looks this guy was giving Root at all. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself, but Shaw was right there. It was probably in the whole knight’s covenant thing to defend a woman’s honor against drunken nobles with wandering eyes. And Shaw would hate to be remiss in her duties.

 

Lord Pierce laughed, “That’s it! I knew you were interesting.”

 

“My choice of companion is probably the least interesting thing about me.”

 

“I don’t know about that, Sweetie.”

 

Lord Pierce clapped Shaw on the shoulder. “I heard you had a taste for the fairer sex on occasion.” He looked Root up and down. “A good woman’s like a good sword. You find the right one and you never want for another.”

 

Shaw blinked at him. That was almost nice. If you were one for sappy sentiment.

 

He grinned, “Of course the fun is in trying a bunch out first.”

 

And the idiot just had to open his mouth and ruin it.

 

Lord Pierce, oblivious to Shaw’s disdain, chuckled at his own joke. “Am I right?”

 

“You’re something.” Actually, several things. Loud. Drunk. About to be stabbed in the kidney.

 

“Why thank you,” He gave her a quick bow, unaware of the danger his continued chatter posed to his internal organs. “And you’re less…imposing than I thought you’d be.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Lord Pierce leaned in closer. “Can I be honest with you?”

 

“Can we stop you?” Root wondered aloud.

 

“I thought warrior women would be a bit more,” He grit his teeth. “You know?”

 

“Constipated?” Shaw hazarded to guess. His face at the moment read constipated. And it was most likely a better answer than whatever stupid line about to fall out of his mouth. 

 

“Manly.” Lord Pierce waved his hand up and down. “You’re a dainty little thing.”

 

Root swiftly grabbed Shaw’s wrist before she could daintily punch the noble in the face. “Looks can be deceiving milord.”

 

“True,” He smiled. “Did you ever think someone as good looking as me could be as smart as I am?”

 

“Shockingly, yes.” Though Shaw’s tone implied that she didn’t think much of his looks or supposed level of intelligence.

 

To no one’s surprise, Lord Pierce didn’t seem to pick up on it. “Insightful too!” He crowed, somewhat proving Shaw’s missed point.

 

Root sensing Shaw was near snapping, attempted to honorably withdraw from the conversation. “It appears you’ve made quite an impression on this assembly, Lord Pierce.”

 

“Always do.”

 

“Yes, well I am certain there are many who would like to congratulate you on your performance.” Shaw snorted. Fat chance of that. “We shan’t keep you.”

 

“Are you coming to the demonstration tomorrow?” He grinned. “Of course you are! I’ll make certain you and your lovely companion are on the list. The king loves me, I can include whomever I want.”

 

Shaw opened her mouth to reply.

 

“No, no don’t thank me. It’s the least I can do.” He tapped his temple. “It’s all up here. Dragon Slayer, and Dragon Slayer’s Attractive Bed Warmer.” Thankfully Root quickly wrapped both arms around Shaw’s waist in order to prevent any bloodshed. “I shall handle your invitations post haste.” He stumbled off into the crowd. “Sire! Sire, I simply must have a word.”

 

Shaw turned to look over her shoulder at Root, who hadn’t let go in case she decided to charge. “Well, he’s an ass.”

 

“Undeniably,” Root agreed. “So much so that someone is going to try and kill him.” 

 


	4. Is It Lord Custard With The Candlestick?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Lord Pierce's demonstration the crew tries to determine just who wants to do him in. Besides Shaw of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay good news/bad news.  
> Bad first: Allergies were kicking my ass this weekend, so much so that I am a bit behind on my editing. And what I did do might be a little suspect as I was loopy on medication. I think this chapter is fine but the next might not be ready by Thursday. Just an FYI. I'm going to do my best to get it up on time but that will also depend on life and if the air gets extra pollen-y again in the meantime.   
> The Good news? This chapter is jumbo sized! (Jazz hands) Lots of new characters! Lots of flirting! Jealousy! Intrigue! Someone loses their pants! (End jazz hands)  
> Hope you all have fun!

Early the next morning Shaw slipped from her warm bed and equally warm bed partner. “Shh too early,” Root grumbled before rolling into a blanket cocoon. Shaw shook her head. The kingdom’s most feared assassin was a blanket hog.

 

She quickly dressed and made her way through the family wing. Her footsteps echoed in the empty corridors. She was sure King Harold was already ensconced in his library as there were no other guards in the hallway. She’d have to talk to Reese about it. This many strangers in the palace, they needed extra eyes on Gen. Arriving at her destination, Shaw pounded on the girl’s door with the flat of her hand.

 

There was a groan and a thump. Shaw pounded on the door again. The door cracked open. “Why?”

 

“Get dressed.”

 

The door slammed in Shaw’s face. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You have three minutes.”

 

To her credit, a fully dressed Gen opened the door before Shaw’s deadline. “It’s not fair to do this to me the morning after a ball.”

 

“Trust me, you got more sleep than I did.”

 

Gen scowled. “You know there are things you never need to tell me.”

 

Shaw smirked at a point well scored. Typically, she’d spare Gen any details of what she and her sister got up to behind closed doors, and extrodinarrly large tapestries, but the kid had been far too mouthy lately. She guided the princess down the hallway. “I could show you the scratches instead.”

 

“No,” Gen groaned. “Not unless you want me to punch you in them.”

 

“Just because I’ve barely slept, doesn’t mean you’re actually going to land a hit.” Shaw pulled open the heavy wooden door to the set of stairs which lead to the king’s private gardens. “Besides we’re running this morning. Then some weight work.” She waved the girl through the doors. “A little bird tells me you’ve been slacking there.”

 

“I have not,” Gen snapped. At Shaw’s unimpressed glare her shoulders slumped. “Much.” She blinked against the bright sunshine. “I really don’t like you today.”

 

“It’s not about liking me.” Now it was Gen’s turn to look unimpressed. “This week is bound to be weird. Have to take the opportunity to train when it presents itself.”

 

Unfortunately, that statement seemed to pique the girl’s interest. “Weird how?”

 

“Weird, weird,” Shaw shrugged. She didn’t actually want to get into any specifics with Gen. Kid was too nosey. Any crumb of information would surely lead her into trouble. She took a deep breath. “Smells like they’re already baking the bread for today. Wonder if there are any more of those tarts from last night.”

 

Gen would not be so easily put off. “You’re not telling me something.”

 

“Because it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

 

“Oh well now I simply must know.”

 

Shaw internally sighed. Kid was too like her sister for anyone’s good. She knew them both well enough to know Gen wouldn’t leave it alone. She had to try again to deflect her attention elsewhere. “Weird like we’re in the middle of a week-long carnival. Weird like a bunch of titled suck ups are flouncing around the castle as if they own the place. Weird like…” Shaw slowed to a stop as her eyes took in what was definitely a weird scene.

 

There was a naked man in the fountain. Ass up for the world to see, naked in the fountain. Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose. It was far too early for this shit.

 

Gen’s eyes flicked over to the fountain and its new occupant and widened. She looked back at Shaw and then at the man again. The man and then Shaw. Shaw, and yep, the still naked man. She slowly blinked. “Alright I can see the weird.”

 

The sound of her voice must have woken the man as he let out a loud groan. He rolled his shoulders as he stood. “Maybe we should…” Gen started just as he began to turn around.

 

“Oh good morning,” Lord Pierce smiled as he spun to face them. “You fine ladies wouldn’t happen to know where a man could find a spare pair of breeches would you?”

 

Gen turned her head to look Shaw in the eye. “Is that supposed to look like that?”

 

“Okay,” Shaw took Gen by the arm and shoved her back towards the stairs. “Run’s cancelled for the day.”

 

“But…”

 

Shaw marched them away from the fountain. “No. I’m not getting involved in that one. Go ask your uncle.”

 

Gen stumbled, “Ew.”

 

“Go ask Zoe then.” Anyone was a better option than Shaw herself.

 

“Ladies, a little help?”

 

“Little is right,” Shaw muttered under her breath. She and Gen kept right on up the stairs. If Pierce was such a genius, he could figure a way out of this one on his own. She wasn’t going to stick around to help or witness his walk of shame.

 

“I’ve heard cold water can do that,” Gen supplied, “Make it little.”

 

“From who?”

 

“No one,” Gen gulped. “Just around. Around the town, people talk as people do.”

 

“I’m going to have a talk with Harper about what taverns she sneaks you into.” Shaw shook her head. “Should have let the damn dragon eat me. Or the demon bears.”

 

“Perhaps one of you could throw something vaguely pant shaped down from upstairs?” Lord Pierce called after them. “A tea towel would also do!”

 

Yeah, definitely should have let the dragon win.

 

“Explain to me again why your personal god can’t just give us the assassin’s name?” Shaw asked Root later that afternoon. They were in a carriage, on their way to Lord Pierce’s demonstration. Assuming he had found his way out of the fountain of course.

 

“Apparently, there is more than one person with the means and motive to steal Lord Pierce’s inventions. And now that you’ve met him, I am sure you are well aware that many would like to do him physical harm.” Root frowned. “She isn’t sure who will actually have the wherewithal to follow through.”

 

“If he doesn’t have pants on this time, I may.”

 

Root leaned in and kissed Shaw on the cheek. “Never have I been more grateful to you for allowing me to sleep in.”

 

Shaw coughed. “What uh, do we know about this guy besides the fact that he’s a drunken asshole with a fountain fetish?”

 

“The drunkenness is a recent development.” Root tapped her bottom lip in thought, “Not sure about the fountains.”

 

“Figures the asshole bit was a permanent condition.”

 

“There is a certain arrogance that comes along with being born into privilege.”

 

“Doesn’t have to be,” Shaw replied. At Root’s confused expression she elaborated, “Zoe’s not an ass.”

 

Root got that ‘I know something you don’t’ look in her eyes. “Lady Morgan is a special case.”

 

Shaw pursed her lips as she considered what she knew and what she obviously didn’t given Root’s tone. “Fair enough.” But Zoe wasn’t her only example. “You’re only an ass to people who deserve it.”

 

Root chuckled, “Now Sameen, we both know I am not the least bit an example of a typical noble born lady.”

 

Now that was true. “Thank the gods.”

 

“You know,” Root drawled with a sly smirk. “You seem to do that often where I’m concerned.”

 

Shaw wasn’t following, “What?”

 

“Just now, thanking the gods.” She trailed her fingers across Shaw’s forearm. The feather light touch made Shaw’s skin prickle. Among other things. “I seem to recall you doing that more than once last night as well.”

 

“Pretty sure you were the one calling out to god.” Several times in fact. It had been a solid reunion. That was a definite perk to Root going off on her own missions once again.

 

Root bit her lip, “Maybe once.”

 

Shaw leaned in until she had Root caged between her arms and the side of the carriage. “More than.”

 

“I think your math might be flawed.” She tangled her fingers in the laces of Shaw’s tunic and tugged her even closer.

 

“I think you talk too much.”

 

“So give me something better to do with my mouth.”

 

They turned their heads at the sound of a clearing throat. Cole waved at them from the opposite side of the carriage. “Did you two really forget I was sitting here?”

 

“Of course not.” Root smiled sweetly. “I simply didn’t care.” She began to pout as Shaw moved to sit back on her side of their shared seat.

 

“I think I liked you guys better when the sexual tension was unresolved.”

 

Root glanced over at Shaw, “Why is he here again?”

 

“Because we need more eyes in this crowd we’re about to wade into.”

 

“No,” Root shook her head. “Why is he specifically in this carriage? What good is having royal blood if I have to ride about town with meddlesome commoners?”

 

“You barely acknowledge your lineage,” Cole tried to argue.

 

“If ever there was a time for me to…”

 

“Root,” Shaw interrupted. “Mind on the mission.” As if she hadn’t been just as caught up in the moment.

 

“The mission is fine.” Root gestured out the window, “And we still have some ways to go.”

 

The afternoon’s presentation was being held on the outskirts of the city for security reasons. Of course those reasons had been considered prior to there being a threat to Lord Pierce’s life. Now they were rolling through a logistical nightmare. An attack could come at any point along their path, at the demonstration itself, or on the way back.

 

They were in the last of three carriages. King Harold’s carriage was leading the way of the small procession. Lord Pierce was riding in the middle of the three. He had sent “his people” ahead to set everything up in the ruins of a fort on the south east side of the city. You could see the entirety of the bay and the Shining Sea as it stretched on past it towards the horizon from its walls.

 

The old fort was a relic from the days before the city was Thornhill’s capitol. The city had always been a popular shipping port. However, in its infancy it had been more of a frontier outpost as the majority of the kingdom’s people had lived on the other side of the Blackwood. The fort had served as a deterrent to any enterprising outsiders wishing to raid the fledgling city. It had fallen into disrepair over the decades as the capitol grew and new quarters for both the guard and other members of the king’s armies constructed newer facilities within its limits.

 

“How about we use that time to figure out who wants to kill this idiot?” Shaw shifted in her seat. “Any grudges against his family?”

 

“He doesn’t have much family to speak of I’m afraid,” Root began. “His father was a minor lord who married above his station. Unfortunately, his mother passed away when Logan was a boy. His father had no idea how to manage a large holding on his own. Made some poor business decisions.”

 

“Pissed the family fortune away.”

 

“Most of it,” Root nodded. “Fortunately, Lord Pierce the younger proved to be a genius. Nothing on my level of course.”

 

“Of course,” Shaw snorted.

 

“But he is quite gifted when it comes to design.”

 

“I’m thinking that your uncle had it right last night; Pierce’s designs are our lead.” They had briefly met with the king and the rest of his advisors the night before to get everyone on the same page.

 

“They’re certainly valuable enough for someone to want to steal. Even to kill for the opportunity to lay hands on them.”

 

“Just have to figure out who’s got the fastest hands.”

 

Root tilted her head with a smile, “Normally, that would be all you, Sweetie.” Shaw rolled her eyes as Cole groaned. That one was bad even for Root.

 

The carriage came to a stop in the shadow of the old fort’s crumbling western walls. Root hopped out first. “I’m going to make sure Carter and the bridge troll have Uncle Harry squared away.”

 

“We’ll take a turn through the crowd. Get a good vantage point for Pierce’s speech.”

 

Root leaned back into the carriage and took Shaw’s bottom lip between her teeth. Shaw was stunned for a second by the unexpected move. But before she could fully recover and give as good as she was getting, Root pulled away with a smirk, “See you soon.” She turned and began to walk away.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. How did Root keep knocking her so off balance? Cole wisely didn’t say a thing, suddenly finding the carriage’s ceiling fascinating. She leaned out of the door to shout, “I’m going to get you back for that.”

 

Root turned and saluted her, “Looking forward to it.” Shaw watched as she slipped into the crowd. She hopped down from the carriage once Root was out of sight.

 

Cole astutely decided to find another topic for them to discuss. “Now that it’s just us, what do you really think of the man?”

 

“I think anyone who’s ever had a conversation with the moron is a likely suspect.”

 

He raised an eyebrow at that, “Pierce is that bad?”

 

“He referred to Root as my bed warmer.”

 

“And he still has all his bits and bobs?” Cole fidgeted until his hands were in front of his groin. “Especially his bobs?”

 

Shaw shrugged, “Someone made me promise to behave myself.”

 

“That man owes me.”

 

“More than he will ever know,” She agreed. “Come on, lets’ see if they’re serving any refreshments at this thing.”

 

“I thought we were working.”

 

“Can’t save the kingdom on an empty stomach.”

 

They were not in fact serving refreshments. Shaw would have to have a word with someone about that. Fortunately, Lord Elias had brought a few bottles of wine along in his carriage. Shaw had gladly relieved him of one. She and Cole took turns passing the bottle as they evaluated the crowd for threats, which basically amounted to people watching.

 

“Wellington could be our guy,” Shaw nodded to a man speaking to Zoe. “He has a hell of a temper.”

 

“Isn’t he the one that smashed up the stables last year after you unseated him in the final round at tourney?”

 

“Yep,” She grinned as she tipped back the bottle. Loser.

 

“What about her?” Cole pointed to a woman dressed in tan leathers with a mane of unruly dark hair tumbling about her shoulders like spilled ink.

 

“Nah,” Shaw shook her head. “The Tree People sent her.”

 

He didn’t see why that was a reason to overlook her. “I’m sure they have thieves too.”

 

“They do,” Root replied, as she rejoined them. “Though not many with two functioning hands.” She made a chopping motion with her left hand over her right wrist.

 

“Ah,” Cole grimaced. “Still I’m sure they start out with both.”

 

“I will give you that,” She conceded. “However, she is a formal envoy sent by the head of the clans. That official documentation is not easily faked. And…” She smirked. “She even brought Sameen a sword.”

 

“She did?” Cole turned to look at Shaw who shrugged.

 

“They’re still hung up on that whole dragon slaying thing.” And now there was the added level of Shaw having walked out of a series of haunted caves without a scratch. Some of General Anya’s people had gone downright stupid over that one. The idiocy seemed to have spread.

 

“I was there too. I helped with the mission, why don’t I get gifts?”

 

“Maybe,” Shaw rolled her eyes, “Because you decided to go for a swim and skip the hard part.”

 

Cole ignored her and turned to Root. “Did you get a gift from the nice tree lady?”

 

“They didn’t shoot me on sight when I trespassed on their lands,” Root suggested.

 

“Well that’s something…”

 

“And they sent along a brace of throwing knives with Sameen’s new sword.” That had been quite kind. Not that she cared either way, but her contributions to the slaying of Samaritan were often overlooked. Root was almost certain General Anya was behind the gesture, they’d got on surprisingly well during their brief encounter a few months ago, though she was equally sure the warrior would never admit to it.

 

“This is so unfair.”

 

“Didn’t you get a wife out of the whole thing?” And sole ownership of the smithy since Shaw couldn’t run the place and go running all over the kingdom after Root. She’d also given him his share of the reward money. All of it as Root had been having one on about taking part of his cut.

 

Shaw glared at a passing noble who looked like he was about to approach them. He went pale and quickly turned away. She smirked. And Cole didn’t have to put up with random people falling all over themselves to thank him with dragon slayer this and dragon slayer that, while he was trying to eat dinner or use the privy. All in all, Cole had come out ahead in the deal if you asked her.

 

Obviously not getting the point, Cole snorted, “So did you.”

 

“No, I…” Root cleared her throat. Shaw held up a hand in an attempt to stave off the comment she knew was brewing, “We’re not married.”

 

“Yet,” She beamed. She ran the fingertips of her left hand across the nape of Shaw’s neck. It was a weak spot of hers. She barely suppressed a shudder. “It’s only a matter of time, Sweetie.”

 

Shaw jerked away. They were supposed to be working here. “I’ve held out this long.”

 

“My patience when it comes to you is inexhaustible.”

 

Cole snorted in amusement. Shaw turned to glare at him. “Can we focus on the task at hand?” They had been working before Cole had to whine like a toddler without his toys. “Odds are it’s not the Ambassador.”

 

“Right,” Root allowed. Her patience might be infinite but she was also wise enough to know when to pick her spots. “Our alliance with her people is stronger than ever. But there are several foreign envoys in attendance who are not quite so esteemed.”

 

“Then how did they snag an invitation to this thing?”

 

“Some of it boils down to politics. Our stalemate with Decima will break eventually. We’ll need allies when the time comes. Even some disreputable ones.”

 

“Worked for your uncle before.” At Root’s befuddled expression Shaw elaborated, “It’s how he got me.”

 

“Gold is how he got you,” Cole chuckled. Shaw let it slide. He was right after all. Though in hindsight she should have asked for far more coin.

 

“Actually, contacting you was my idea.” She reached out and relieved Shaw of her bottle of wine. She tipped the bottle back and took a drink. Shaw absolutely did not swallow at the movement of her pale throat.

 

She rolled her eyes when she caught Cole smirking at her, “Whatever.”

 

That was met with a wine stained grin. “Anyway, certain allowances were made. Then Lord Pierce himself added quite a few names to the list.” Root tilted her head in thought, “Uncle Harry indulged him a bit too much in that regard.”

 

“Seeing as one of the guests wants to kill him? Yeah.” Shaw took the bottle back.

 

“We don’t actually know that it will be a guest.”

 

Cole grinned, “My money is still on Shaw.”

 

“He decides to get naked and/or chatty with me again the odds will certainly be on your side.” Shaw rolled her shoulders. They had a puzzle on their hands. “Let’s run down what we do know.”

 

“Probably not the tree lady,” Cole said to set things off.

 

“No,” Root agreed. “Not any of us as long as Lord Pierce keeps his breeches on.”

 

Shaw’s glanced down at the bottle in her hand. “Elias?”

 

“Possibly, Lord Pierce’s work could be both a help and a hindrance to his business prospects. If he decided to err on the side of it hindering him?” Coin was the cause of more than one mysterious death in Lord Elias’ circle. “Carter is keeping an eye on him and his man, Anthony.”

 

Shaw sought out Elias’ face in the crowd. He was standing not too far from the stage where the king sat observing the gathering. Anthony, as ever, was standing by his side. Carter seemed to be conversing with the pair of them. “Someday you need to explain how that friendship works.”

 

“There are some mysteries that escape even me, Sameen.” Root nodded to a man standing just to the left of Lord Elias. “Baron Yogorov would have similar motives to kill him.”

 

“Yeah he was paying Elias and Carter a creepy amount of attention last night,” Shaw added. “You might want to have Zoe put one of her little birds on him.”

 

“What about her?” Cole pointed to a blonde woman in a red and black gown speaking with Lord Pierce.

 

“Ah, Madame Bouquet is an interesting case.”

 

After she failed to elaborate Shaw grumbled, “Well, are you going to spill it or what?”

 

A very familiar smirk appeared on Root’s face, “Her father was Viscount of Soldana.” Shaw scowled, that wasn’t any reason for Root to be coy. Soldana was one of the Free Cities, and granted the place was a bit rough but… “She is also an assassin,” Root added.

 

“Why are we standing here instead of kicking her ass?”

 

“Oh she’s not our girl,” Root breezily replied. “She recently killed a slave trader in Provenance. Attending this presentation is her cover for that job. She’s officially on the roll as a representative of the Soldanian aristocracy.” As they watched a dark haired woman appeared at Madame Bouquet’s side. They exchanged a few words and then Madame Bouquet seemed to take her leave. “Her valet is her partner actually. They only take on contracts for disreputable men of a very specific tenor. Lord Pierce doesn’t even begin to qualify.”

 

“Uh, good for him?” Cole stammered.

 

“Anyone else your invisible friend can help us mark off the list?”

 

Root tilted her head to the side. “Too many people at cross purposes here. Too much greed. Too much fear. It’s hard to narrow things down.”

 

“So we gather intel the normal way.”

 

“How boring,” Root playfully huffed. “Good thing Zoe already constructed dossiers on the majority of the guest list.”

 

“And let me guess, you already have them committed to that twisted memory of yours?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“So the madam…”

 

“That was me extending a bit of professional courtesy, not an occupation,” Root interjected.

 

“The blonde,” Shaw corrected herself, “While dangerous, is not a threat to Pierce.”

 

“Correct.”

 

“The Ambassador is in the clear too. Elias and Yogorov, still to be determined.”

 

“I’d also keep an eye on Lord Nottingham.” Root nodded to a beak faced man with greasy black hair who was leaning against the far wall. “He tends to challenge people to duels at the slightest perceived insult. He has quite a body count.”

 

Shaw smirked, “I could go insult him. Stop any threat from that quarter before it starts.”

 

“As scintillating as watching you work would be, Sweetie, let’s hold that plan in reserve for a bit.” Root waved her arm about. “I do admit I’m leery of him, but he doesn’t exactly fit the wanting something from Lord Pierce mold.”

 

“Maybe I’ll insult him once this business with Pierce is settled.” She drained the last of the wine from the bottle. “Could be fun.”

 

Cole pointed to another unfamiliar face in the crowd, “And that one, the dark skinned woman in green with the gold medallion hanging from her neck?”

 

“A trader from the south, Talibah. Lord Pierce’s personal guest,” Root replied. “She has no ties to any formal houses that we know of.”

 

“So she’s a commoner?”

 

“Most likely. However, a wealthy one.” Root took the empty bottle from Shaw’s hand and tucked it into the lowered hood of an unsuspecting page as he passed. “It’s my understanding that she’s here in the interest of negotiating an agreement for Lord Pierce to construct several ships for her backers once he’s done updating Uncle Harry’s fleet.”

 

“Isn’t that unusual?” Cole frowned.

 

“Lord Pierce likes to keep busy.”

 

“No, I mean sending a commoner in to handle such negotiations.”

 

“You know how it is once you travel out of allied waters. More city states and smaller, warring nations, scrambling for territories. An industrious woman can do well for herself.” Root nodded to another guest, “Lady Josephine’s family holds a fleet of shipping vessels that could rival our armada.”

 

“But you said Lady Josephine,” Cole pointed out. “I’m going to assume you weren’t just being polite.”

 

“You know I don’t make a habit of it.” Root shrugged; he was correct, that particular family did hold a formal title. “But in many places, if you have enough gold, it doesn’t matter how little of one’s family line can be traced. Furthermore, our esteemed lord doesn’t stand on ceremony when it comes to matters of trade.”

 

“Since Talibah has a stack of coin to back up any offer she makes; Lord Pierce doesn’t care if she has any family at all.”

 

“I always knew you were the brains of your former outfit, Sweetie.”

 

“Hey,” Cole huffed. Shaw simply smirked at him.

 

Root blinked up at the sky. “We should be getting underway soon.”

 

“Good, because some of these guys are getting a little ripe.” Shaw wrinkled her nose as a couple guardsmen passed them by. The summer heat was in full force now. She wouldn’t be surprised if the gathering aroma began to attract legions of flies.

 

“Who’s that talking to Lady Carter?” Lord Elias had moved on to converse with Lord Pierce. Carter was now speaking to a stranger. Not a bad looking one at that.

 

“You mean flirting,” Shaw interjected. “Look at that lean in.”

 

Root tilted her head, “Excellent eye, Sweetie. It does appear the High Steward has piqued someone’s interest.”

 

“Good for her.” Carter deserved a little interest, in Shaw’s opinion. Woman worked far too hard, she needed to cut loose once in a while. 

 

“Who is he though?” Cole asked. The man wasn’t dressed like the other nobles. His clothes were clean and clearly well-made but they weren’t fashionably cut. Another merchant perhaps?

 

“That I don’t know,” Root replied. “I’ve never seen him before.”

 

“Can’t you ask,” Cole’s eyes darted about for a moment before he pointed at the sky, “Her?”

 

“God helps those who help themselves.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “Translation, her invisible friend is taking a nap.”

 

“God doesn’t nap,” Root huffed. “She’s simply occupied with other matters at the moment.”

 

“Whatever,” Shaw rolled her eyes. Damn dragon was far too capricious when it came to handing out information in her opinion. “Come on Cole. Let’s do some recon.”

 

“Try not to embarrass Lady Carter.”

 

Shaw spun around to blink at her, “When have I ever embarrassed anyone?”

 

Root chuckled at her girl. “Whatever you do, be swift about it. Things really will get going soon.” Shaw gave her a two fingered salute and then dragged a reluctant Cole into the crowd.

 

Another figure appeared at her elbow not long after the pair had wandered off. “What shall I call you this time?”

 

Root turned to smile at the newcomer. She held out her right hand to the tall, dark haired man. “Lady Ginsberg.” The familiar alias slipped easily from her tongue. She’d decided to use it after Shaw had thrown her red wig into Razgovor’s stable that morning. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

 

“A pleasure indeed,” He bowed as he placed a kiss on the back of her hand.

 

“Stop it.”

 

“Just playing along,” He grinned. “I’m assuming you’re working.”

 

“Always.”

 

“Your industrious nature is only one of your many admirable qualities.”

 

Root raised an eyebrow, “Is it really?”

 

“You don’t think so?” His own brows were drawn in confusion.

 

“Oh I do,” Root grinned. “I just adore hearing someone else say it.”

 

“Then I shall tell you as much as you like,” He laughed.

 

Root smiled, “Still a charmer I see, Durban.”

 

“Joey, please, my lady.”

 

“Am I to assume you’re working as well?”

 

He nodded, “I am, but not in the way you think.”

 

“I must say I’m intrigued.”

 

“Truly,” He dipped his head. “I’ve given up my wastrel ways.”

 

“Pity,” Root teased. “So why are you here?” She placed a hand on her chest. “Don’t tell me you’re a merchant? That’s so boring.”

 

“No,” He laughed. “Never. I’m Lord Pierce’s bodyguard.”

 

“Ah now that is the opposite of boring.” And more than a bit intriguing given her current mission. She didn’t think Joey was a threat to Pierce, but he had dealings with more than a few unsavory sorts way back when.

 

“You have no idea.”

 

But she’d like to. Perhaps he could offer he some insight into Lord Pierce’s more recent comings and goings. “And how did that come about?”

 

“Met him while I was working a job. He actually saved me from the hangman’s noose.”

 

“Sloppy,” Root tisked.

 

“Very,” He allowed. “So much so in fact that when Logan offered me a chance to try life on the right side of the law, I decided to give it a go.”

 

“And how’s that working out for you?”

 

“I’m better suited to it than I thought I’d be.” He pointed to Lord Pierce who was scrambling to climb up a waist high section of the outer wall. “Of course any side Logan is on is far from typical.”

 

“You know that’s a sheer drop on the other side of that wall.” And at the bottom there was nothing but crashing waves and more jagged rock. Not the softest place to land. “And your lord has been drinking this morning.”

 

“He’s been drinking every morning,” Joey sighed. “I should go make sure he’s ready for the demonstration.”

 

Root had been hoping to get a bit more information out of him. But she’d be derelict in her duty if she allowed Lord Pierce to topple to his death. “Good luck with that.”

 

“You’re all heart, my lady.”

 

“You’re not the first to accuse me of such a vile thing,” Root teased. She nodded to Lord Pierce who was now striding across the wall as if it were a balance beam. “You really should gather your charge before he goes splat.”

 

Joey sketched out a small bow. “It was good to see you, Lady Ginsberg. We’ll have to share a drink sometime this week and catch up.”

 

“Looking forward to it, good sir.” Joey smiled and then dashed into the crowd.

 

“Who’s he?”

 

Root turned to Shaw with a perplexed smile, “Who Joey?”

 

“Is that his name?” Stupid name. What grown man went by Joey?

 

“Yes,” Root frowned at her tone. “He’s Lord Pierce’s personal body guard. You don’t have to worry about him.”

 

“Actually, I’d think that would be the guy most inclined to want to put him down.” Shaw had needed only five minutes to want to do the arrogant lord in. Someone who spent hours at a time in close proximity? Suspicious as hell.

 

“You know, he used to be a fairly capable thief.”

 

Shaw’s eyes narrowed until they were nearly slits. “You say that and I’m not supposed to worry about him being our guy, why exactly?”

 

“Because Lord Pierce obviously trusts him.” Root tilted her head, “And I can vouch for him.”

 

“You mean She told you it’s not him.” Of course the dragon got chatty over that guy. Of freaking course it did.

 

“No, I mean I can vouch for him. Personally.”

 

She could what now? “What does that mean?”

 

“We’ve encountered one another a few times throughout our work.”

 

“When he was a thief?”

 

“People change, Sameen.” Root was more than proof of that. “He and Lord Pierce became friends after certain…circumstances brought them together. He’s loyal to him.” She pursed her lips in thought. “Sure he used to be the sort of man you’d never leave alone with your good silver, but even then he was always a good man.” He always went out of his way not to kill anyone, even in those days.

 

“Good people do bad things sometimes,” Shaw huffed. Why was Root going so hard on this Joey guy’s behalf?

 

Root continued on as if Shaw hadn’t spoken, “He’ smart, loyal, handsome…”

 

“So’s Bear.”

 

“I can’t say I never considered it.”

 

Considered? Considered what? “You don’t even like men.”

 

“I mean if I had to pick a guy.”

 

If she had to? Root had spent time considering what she’d do if she had to marry a man? Had Harold tried to force Root into a marriage before the Samaritan incident? With a man? When he fully knew her proclivities? These royal types did tend to pull silly shit like that to preserve the bloodlines and all. Oh Shaw was going to gut him, crown or no crown. It was bad enough the man had used Root as a bargaining chip when the fate of the entire kingdom was at stake. If he had done so over something as frivolous as keeping up appearances?

 

“Who was Carter’s friend?”

 

“Who?” Shaw blinked. She’d lost focus, being so consumed with plotting to strangle the king with his own ascot. She could cross this courtyard in less than a minute. Throat-punch an unsuspecting John…

 

“The man flirting with Carter?” Root placed a hand on Shaw’s arm. “You were going to find out who he was?”

 

“Oh, right.” She finally looked back at Root. “Name’s Ian, says he works for Lord Pierce.”

 

“Interesting.”

 

“Yeah,” Shaw distractedly replied. She probably should get some clarification before she committed regicide. She’d get Carter alone later for a little chat. She pursed her lips. Carter could also probably fill her in on this Joey guy.

 

“Something wrong, Sweetie?”

 

Shaw shook her head, “What would make you say that?”

 

“You look angry.”

 

“Just annoyed,” She tried to relax her posture. “Thought you said this thing was going to start soon.”

 

Root opened her mouth to reply but her words were drowned out by the sound of horns. “Ask and yee shall receive, Sameen.”

 

They turned to watch as King Harold rose from the makeshift throne that had been set up for him on stage. “Honored guests, we are most happy to welcome you to today’s demonstration. Thornhill has always been a kingdom with its eyes toward progress. Once again the world readies to take a leap forward into the future and we shall be leading the charge. As our honored allies and friends we wished for you all to be here to observe the dawning of a new age of prosperity and security for our people.”

 

The crowd broke into spirited applause. King Harold allowed it for a few moments before raising his hand for order once again. “Now without further ado, Lord Pierce the floor, as it were, is yours.”

 

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Pierce at least had enough wits about him to bow to the king this time. After Harold was seated once again, he turned to the crowd. “And thank you for indulging us on this rather warm afternoon.”

 

He pulled at the collar of his tunic. “And given the warmth of this particular day. I’ll not dally. We’re here today to show you the future.”He crossed the stage in three long strides to stand beside several large objects that were covered with canvas tarps.

 

He waved his hand and Ian pulled the tarp off of the first two objects. A long iron tube was revealed. It was mounted on a disk, which was itself fixed on a waist-high post. There was a set of wooden handles on one end. A copper tube ran from a spot just above those to an odd looking wine barrel. “I give you the salamander.”

 

The reaction from the crowd was less than enthusiastic. Lord Pierce blinked at them. “Oh, I should probably let you all in on what it can do.”

 

“That’d be a good start,” Shaw grumbled.

 

“This beauty is a portable firestorm with a three hundred and sixty-degree range of fire.” That statement drew a bit more positive reaction from the crowd. Lord Pierce pointed to the barrel. “The bellows on this contraption allow its contents to feed into the salamander. The operator can then direct the fire in whichever direction he so chooses.”

 

Lord Pierce pointed to the outer wall he had been balancing on earlier. “If you all would step a bit closer to the edge here and direct your attention to the targets set up on the water.”

 

It took a few minutes for the collected nobles to arrange themselves along the wall. Root shoved a few men aside so that she and Shaw could take up a section close to the stage. Shaw pulled her father’s old spyglass from a pouch on her belt. “At least I understand why you had me bring this along.” She adjusted the focus to get a better view of the scene below. Three targets were lined up on the water on a series of floating platforms. She noticed a group of men on a raft floating near the first target.

 

“Always be prepared, Sameen.” Root leaned in so her lips brushed against her ear, “I’d never let my lady leave the house without the proper equipment.” A throat cleared behind them. “Reese,” She nodded.

 

“Root,” He replied. Carter chuckled as she shoved in beside Root along the wall.

 

“The King?”

 

“Zoe’s with him. He suggested Carter and I come take a closer look at the proceedings.”

 

“Oh goodie.”

 

“My thoughts exactly,” He grumbled as he went to stand between Shaw and Cole.

 

“Has everyone found a good spot?” Lord Pierce called out to the crowd. “You don’t want to miss this.”

 

“Oh get on with it,” Someone shouted.

 

“Let it never be said that I don’t give the people what they want.” Lord Pierce turned to Joey. “Tell the crew to begin when ready.”

 

Joey nodded. They watched as he pulled a small mirror from a vest pocket. Using the mirror, he signaled down to the crew of the raft. “Smart,” Shaw noted. Reese grunted his agreement. They’d used similar methods in the army.

 

There was a flash as the crew replied to their orders. The crowd watched with bated breath as the men on the raft turned the ship until the salamander placed on it was facing the target. A breath later, a jet of flame completely consumed the floating platform. “We’ve tested the salamander on actual vessels of course.A frigate was completely disabled in minutes.”

 

Root crossed her arms over her chest. “But you have to get within range to deploy the weapon. The same alchemical processes used to create your portable flame can also be employed to make building materials resistant to fire.”

 

“Excellent points both, my lady.” Lord Pierce smiled, “In fact we’ve already tested such a technique in the event the results of this work were to fall into the wrong hands.”

 

“So you’ve created a weapon and a way to deem that weapon inert?” Lord Elias drawled. “You’ve certainly added a great deal of pomp for such a small achievement.”

 

“That would most definitely be true if I brought you here only for this.” Lord Pierce nodded to Joey who began signaling the men below with the mirror again. The men signaled back after a moment and then broke out the oars. “Fortunately for you, I’m full of tricks.”

 

Cole leaned over Reese to whisper to Shaw, “Looks like they’re withdrawing.”

 

“You have a real gift for stating the obvious,” The taller man grumbled.

 

“I just thought there’d be more to the show.”

 

Shaw nodded to the two remaining targets. “Pretty sure there will be. You don’t lay out three targets for one shot.”

 

“If you’d all look to the stage for a moment?” The crowd turned to fully face Lord Pierce once again as he moved to the remaining tarped object on stage.

 

This time Joey had to help Ian remove the tarp. When it was pulled away they revealed a ballista. It was about half the size of the weapons that were currently placed at intervals along the city’s walls in case of a siege. Shaw noted the weapon was rigged to hurl stones instead of javelins or bolts.

 

Ian brought a large chest over to Lord Pierce. He pulled a key from his belt and swiftly opened the locked chest. The crowd closed in, eager to see what was inside. Shaw’s view was blocked for a moment. However, when Lord Pierce moved to stand next to the ballista, she could see him and what he was carrying clearly.

 

“Some of you may be familiar with the use of alchemical solutions in combat?”

 

There were murmurs among the crowd. Baron Yogorov was the first to speak out, “Are you about to lob a flask at your little practice target? I could have spared myself the sweat and the mosquitoes coming out here if that is the best you can do.”

 

Madame Bouquet also spoke up, “Not to be disrespectful milord.” She shot the baron a wry glance. “But barring firewalls, there aren’t many solutions that I’d think would be useful in naval combat. They’ve simply too small an impact radius.”

 

“Like this?” Lord Pierce held up the vial in his hand. “This was just a visual aid.” He shook his head and handed the flask to Joey, who tucked it into his belt. “But since you all seem to be knowledgeable on the subject we can skip the basics.”

 

“Now the lady did bring up an excellent point. I find that the problem with alchemy is the volume required to do anything big.” He pat the barrel connected to the salamander. “It’s not like one can just lug a massive vat of solution on their back. But what if one could concentrate a solution enough that a miniscule dose could be enough to topple mountains?”

 

He bent over and reached into the chest. He stood up with what looked like a glass ball. “This first one is a mix of my own making.” He loaded the ball into the ballista. “Now keep your eyes on the water around the target.”

 

Joey turned the ballista and aimed it in the direction of the second target. “Fire at will, my good man.” Joey nodded and after making a miniscule adjustment did just that.

 

The ball sailed through the air. It struck the corner of the platform holding the target. “Your aim’s a bit off,” Lord Wellington taunted.

 

Undaunted, Lord Pierce replied. “Remember watch the water, not the target.”

 

There was a crackling sound. Shaw’s eyes narrowed. She lifted her spyglass once again. The water around the target was frozen. The crowd gasped as the ice grew large enough to be seen by the naked eye.

 

“Wouldn’t it be handy to stop enemy ships at will?” The crowd broke into applause. Not wanting to lose his momentum, Pierce reached into the chest for another item. “This next example is not my formula sadly. Yet the purveyor is more than happy to supply the crown with as many as needed.”

 

Shaw recognized the object in the man’s hand immediately. She leaned up to whisper in Root’s good ear. “Daizo happen to mention he’s been stepping out on you?”

 

“He’s a businessman, Sameen. I’m absolutely his favorite, but by no means his only client.”

 

“Yeah but does he have to hand exploding orbs off to any idiot with coin?”

 

“Lord Pierce is no ordinary idiot.”

 

“That’s the truest thing you’ve ever said.”

 

“Keep your eye on the ball,” Lord Pierce instructed as he loaded the orb into the ballista. Joey adjusted the machine to aim for the third target. “Wait a moment,” Lord Pierce ordered. He turned to the crowd. “What say we have a little fun?”

 

“I don’t know if I want to know his idea of fun,” Carter muttered.

 

“He’s harmless,” Reese tried to ease her concerns. “I think.”

 

Lord Pierce ushered Joey aside and took his place behind the weapon. “Forget the target. Everyone pay attention to the large rock, the one that looks a bit like Lord Wellington’s obnoxious hat.”

 

The crowd laughed as they turned to face the water once again. “In three, two, one…” The clank and rasp of the ballista firing filled the air. The orb glowed brighter and brighter as it neared its target. There was a blinding flash at impact. A roar. Then cries as the crowd scrambled to dodge small rock chips that were now raining from the sky.

 

“As you can see,” Lord Pierce shouted over the din, “Total obliteration.”

 

“A little too total Lord Pierce,” King Harold remarked. One of the guards was holding his shield over the king’s head to spare him from the debris. “Our intent wasn’t to pummel our guests.”

 

“A slight miscalculation on my part, Your Majesty. I do apologize.”

 

“Perhaps, next time you should stick to the agreed upon plan.”

 

“Of course.” Lord Pierce bowed. “But you have to admit we’ve made a lasting impression.”

 

Reese wiped a trickle of blood from his brow. A bit of rock had nicked him. “If by that you mean scars.”

 

“I’ve heard ladies do appreciate them, Ser Reese.”

 

Now that the rain of sharp objects had seemed to cease the rest of the crowd began to recover. One of the lords called out, “How do we know any of this will work on an actual ship?”

 

Lord Pierce smiled, “Because we’ve already built one.” He pointed to the south. “She should be coming over the horizon right about now.”

 

Shaw turned and squinted. There was a something out there. As the minutes passed it became clear that a rather large ship was sailing towards the city.

 

“My good people, I give you the Pride of Thornhill.”

 


	5. The First Cut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mind the alleyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry about the delay in posting this chapter. For good and for ill I'm my own editor on this stuff. I had the chapter set for a final few tweaks and round of edits and then my seasonal allergies went bonkers. And then my car decided it wanted to act out on Thursday. And yeah my editing time went away. Barring any other weirdness, or crippling FOMO this weekend over the Shoot panel at Clexa Con, I'm back on track.  
> Which is all my rambly way of thanking you for your patience. Hope this chapter was worth the wait for everyone. As with any action chapter I'm not the happiest with it, but it is another big one. Maybe just listen to No Wow the entire time you're reading the second half of this one? That song makes anything kick ass.

 

After the presentation’s rather rocky end, the crowd milled about for a short time. Mainly because it was a logistical nightmare getting all the carriages in and out of the fort in an orderly fashion. Especially with all the egos involved. Lord X leaving before Count Y was a grievous insult…blah, blah. Blah. Shaw was pretty sure Carter had mentally decapitated half the gentry before she got everything halfway sorted.

 

And she was doubly sure she never, ever, wanted Carter’s job.

 

Root decided that it was a fine time to work the crowd a bit. Shaw decided her partner would attract less attention if she didn’t have the Dragon Slayer on her arm as she snooped. This was mostly due to the fact that Shaw had also decided that she had reached her limit on social interaction for the day. Root, understanding as always, had left her in the shade of one of the walls with a “be back soon,” and a less than discreet slap on the ass.

 

Shaw sent Cole off when she noticed how he was favoring his bad leg. “Why didn’t you bring your cane?” Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t had it the night before at the ball either.

 

“I am perfectly capable of standing in place to listen to a speech.”

 

“Is that why you’re limping right now?”

 

“I’m not weak,” He snapped.

 

“Did those words come out of my mouth?” Shaw growled. There was no reason for Cole to be an idiot about this. There wasn’t a single person in the capitol that would be dumb enough to fault him for using a bit of help when he needed it. He’d injured himself saving all their asses after all. “Go sit on the stage.”

 

“Isn’t that disrespectful?”

 

“What, do you think Harold is going to scold you?”

 

“You do remember he’s the king?” Cole actually gulped, “He can do a hell of a lot more than scold me.”

 

“The man has war wounds of his own. He won’t fault you for needing to take a load off that leg.”

 

“But…”

 

“Go before I drop kick your ass over there.”

 

Knowing she’d make good on that threat, Cole had hobbled across the courtyard and after a brief moment of hesitation had sat down on the corner of the stage furthest from King Harold’s seat. She smirked as she watched the king wave Cole closer. The two appearing to become engaged in conversation with Reese about the ballista, if all the pointing they were doing was any indication.

 

Shaw leaned against the outer wall and stared out across the water at the Pride of Thornhill as it drew closer to the city. The ship was to drop anchor that evening near the mouth of the harbor. Any interested members of today’s assembly would have an opportunity to inspect the ship the next day. For once Shaw was looking forward to what could be called a social engagement.

 

It’d been far too long since she’d prowled across a deck.

 

She pulled her father’s old spyglass from her belt. Adjusting the focus, she held it up to her right eye to watch the ship. Lord Pierce might be a drunken moron, but it sure seemed like he knew what he was doing when it came to ship design. From what she could see, it was a real beauty.

 

“That’s an interesting piece.” Shaw turned her head to see Talibah standing beside her. “Your spyglass, I couldn’t help but noticing.” She held up a similar device. “I have one myself.”

 

“How fortunate of you to bring it along today.”

 

“To be honest, Lord Pierce gave me an advanced warning, in regards to my need for it.” She adjusted one of the sleeves of her robe. Shaw wondered how she could be wearing such long ones in this heat. Though Talibah didn’t appear to even be sweating. “Now that I’ve seen a bit of his work I’m grateful he did.”

 

“Are you and he close?”

 

“Not especially, but my business doesn’t require us to be so.”

 

“And what business is that?” Shaw knew of course but she wanted to see if the woman would tell the truth.

 

“I’m representing a cabal of interested, tradesman, if you will. They wish to broker a deal with Lord Pierce for some ship designs once he has completed his business with your king.” She nodded to the spyglass in Shaw’s hand. “It’s how I recognized your piece. It was made in Navarra correct? Judging by the maker’s mark stamped on the side there.”

 

“Ah yeah,” Shaw hedged. She didn’t know. Her father had never said where he had gotten it. She wasn’t even supposed to have it, but she had been playing with it the night of the storm. It was the one piece of him she had managed to hold on to for all these years.

 

“It’s not often you see one in the hands of someone who isn’t a sailor.”

 

Shaw tucked her father’s scope back into her belt. “Family heirloom.”

 

“Well, it is nice to see quality craftsmanship so appreciated.” She turned to look out on the water. “Speaking of,” Talibah nodded towards the shadow of The Pride among the waves. “What do you think of her?”

 

“I haven’t actually been on board yet.” Shaw pursed her lips, “It cuts a fine form on the water though.” Her father would have killed for a ship like that.

 

“Indeed,” She hummed in agreement. “I’m quite looking forward to taking a closer look tomorrow.”

 

Shaw snorted, “You and half the kingdom.”

 

“Are you not including yourself in that number?”

 

“I’d prefer to take a look without the crowd.” If not for this situation with Lord Pierce, she would have suggested to Root that the pair of them simply sneak on board for a tour tonight.

 

“The constant posturing of these nobles can be tiring.”

 

“That’s putting it mildly,” Shaw grumbled.

 

Talibah nodded to someone behind Shaw. “Ah it seems my ride is ready.” She bowed her head, “Thank you for indulging my curiosity, your grace.”

 

Shaw groaned.

 

She looked at her with wide eyes. “I’m sorry is that not the proper form of address for a Duchess in this kingdom?”

 

And she was back to plotting the best way to make King Harold choke on his own ascot. “It’s just Shaw.”

 

“Ah, not one for the trappings of the aristocracy?”

 

“You could say that.”

 

This time Talibah held out her arm. “Thank you for your time, Shaw.”

 

Shaw raised an eyebrow at the gesture coming from a trader, but after a breath returned the warrior’s handshake. The woman was well versed in diplomacy indeed. Talibah released her arm with a curious little smile and left her there without another word. What a strange woman.

 

“What was that about?”

 

“Nothing important,” Shaw replied as she turned her head to look at Root. “You dig up anything good?”

 

She grinned, “A few tidbits to pass along to Zoe. Though nothing to help with our current mission.”

 

“You didn’t really think it was going to be that easy?”

 

“Perhaps one day,” Root shrugged. “Of course if this work were easy, the world would have no need for people like us.”

 

“Some might call that a better place.”

 

“No place without you would be one I’d call better, Sam.”

 

Her tone was overly wistful even for Root. Shaw frowned, “What’s gotten into you?”

 

“I don’t know. The salty sea air. Beautiful view.” She raked her teeth over her bottom lip, “An even more beautiful woman by my side…” This time her tone was entirely flirty.

 

That was more like it. “Is she hot?” Shaw drawled. “My bed’s been pretty empty lately.”

 

“The hottest,” Root replied. “Though from what I hear your bed is plenty full.”

 

“Nah.”

 

“Such deceit is unbecoming a Knight of Thornhill.”

 

“You calling me a liar?”

 

Root leaned down, “Right to your pretty little face.”

 

Shaw was about to reply when she noticed the king rising from his seat. “Looks like our ride’s here.”

 

Root stepped back, “And just when it was getting interesting.”

 

“I could make Cole ride back with Zoe,” Shaw smirked. “You and me alone in that carriage could be plenty interesting.” The more Shaw thought about it the better the idea sounded. “They have John and the guards, they don’t actually need us on the ride back.”

 

Root didn’t reply. Shaw looked up at her and groaned. She had a familiar distant look in her eyes. There went those lovely travel plans.

 

A heartbeat later Root shook her head. “You go on back with the bridge troll.”

 

“And where are you going to be?”

 

“The docks. She wants me to pick up something.”

 

“By yourself.”

 

“Sweetie,” Root sighed, “We’ve been over this.”

 

Shaw crossed her arms over her chest. “I was clarifying.”

 

Root smirked as if she could see right through that bit of bluster. “I’ll be fine.”

 

“I know that,” Shaw snapped. She’d kick her ass if she wasn’t. But she couldn’t help but sneak in a dig, “I trust you won’t take three extra days to come back this time?”

 

“Don’t be facetious, Sweetie. I’ll be in and out like that.” Root snapped her fingers. At Shaw’s unimpressed glare she leaned in close to ghost her lips against the shell of her ear. “I’ve got big plans for us tonight.”

 

She wasn’t going to break. She wasn’t going to break. “Hmm?” That wasn’t breaking exactly.

 

“I’ve two more days’ worth of apologizing to do, don’t I?” Root nuzzled the skin at the base of her jaw. “I did promise to thoroughly make my tardiness up to you, didn’t I?”

 

“Ah yeah.” Shaw swallowed at the faint scrape of teeth against her skin. “Damn right you did.”

 

Root pulled away with an especially smug grin. “So I’ll just be off now. Sooner I get this done the sooner you get done.”

 

“Fine,” Shaw grunted. “Wait. How are you getting there?” It’d be a long walk if she wasn’t riding along in the carriages.

 

“Figured I’d steal a horse.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Wellington or Yogorov?”

 

“Flip a coin.” They were both assholes. “Or whichever you come across first.” There was something to be said about that sooner done thing. No sense wasting time on trivial details.

 

“Whatever would I do without your guidance?” Root laughed. She leaned in and pecked Shaw on the cheek just to annoy her. “Be safe, Sameen.”

 

“Just worry about getting back on time and in one piece.”

 

Root nodded as she began to walk away. She was nearly across the courtyard before she turned to look back at Shaw. “Oh and She says to mind the alleyways.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “Reese! You’re with me.”

 

“I am?”

 

Once again King Harold occupied the lead carriage. Carter, and the mysteriously stranded Lord Wellington rode with him. Lord Pierce was in the second carriage with Joey and Zoe. Which left Cole, Reese and Shaw holding up the rear in the last carriage once again. An escort of ten guards on horseback accompanied them.

 

Shaw’s hackles began to rise the nearer they drew to the city. There was something in the air. As weird as it sounded, it was like she could smell trouble blowing their way. She finally voiced her concern when they reached the outer wall. The carriages had slowed to a near crawl in the crowd pushing to enter the city through the gates.

 

The guardsmen were attempting to clear the way, in order to give the king’s procession priority. But the influx of visitors from the coast, in addition to the stragglers from Pierce’s demonstration, all trying to get into the city, meant that even that task was slow going.

 

“Root gave me a warning earlier,” She finally shared. “I think we’re going to get hit somewhere between here and the palace.”

 

Accustomed to Root’s portents, Reese didn’t doubt the statement. “Did she give you any specifics?”

 

“Does she ever?”

 

“I thought perhaps just this once, she may have, since it’s you.”

 

Shaw looked at him like he was insane. “Why would you ever think that? Woman lives to annoy me.” So does her dragon apparently.

 

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

 

“It is.”

 

Reese tensed his jaw. For a moment Shaw thought he was going to argue, but after a beat he nodded. “Options?”

 

“I’ve got one in mind,” Shaw replied as she began to shimmy out of the window on her side of the carriage. The crowd around them was packed in too close to fully open the door.

 

He reached out and placed a hand on her leg to stop her. “What are you doing?”

 

“Streets are too crowded. We’ll never see an attack coming in time.”

 

“And hanging out the window is going to help with that?”

 

She nodded to the first row of houses lining their route. “I thought I’d take the high road.”

 

Having a set of eyes above the level of the crowd was an excellent idea. He grinned, “Can you keep up?”

 

“The question is, can you?”

 

“I’ll have the horses.”

 

“And the sea of humanity down here,” She snorted as she scrambled through the window and on to the roof of the carriage. The driver startled as he noticed her presence behind him.

 

“Shaw.” She ducked her head back inside. “If you run into any trouble, don’t engage on your own. Give us a sign so we can back you up.”

 

“You just worry about staying alert. The king and Pierce will be counting on you.” If there really was trouble waiting out there, it would reach Reese first.

 

“I’m more worried about Root should anything happen to you.”

 

“Smart.”

 

Shaw waited on the top of the carriage until the procession began moving again. When they reached the first row of buildings, she stood up. They passed a tavern, which had a large banner hanging from an iron pole set into the mortar above the establishment’s door. Shaw leapt up and grabbed the pole using it to swing herself onto the tavern’s roof.

 

She had memorized their route through the city that morning. Once she had scaled the first rooftop it was simple work to scout the path ahead by jumping from building to building. They were halfway home before she ran into her first bit of trouble.

 

Shaw had been running a few paces in front of the carriages, when they reached a square. The carriages were to skirt the southern edge and then turn onto a side street to continue their journey. Shaw had cleared the buildings along the square easily enough. When she made the turn, however, her steps slowed. The next building in her path was a full story taller than the rest. She’d have to boost herself up. Shaw glanced back down at the street below. The king’s carriage was just making the turn onto this block. There were people darting in and out of the shops and stopping to watch the procession but nothing about them looked suspicious. It felt safe enough to take her eyes off of the road for a few moments to scale the next building.

 

It seemed easy enough. She should be able to just hop up and grab the ledge. Then all she’d need to do is pull herself up. Shaw adjusted her belt. Stretched her arms and then went for it. She didn’t grab the edge of the next rooftop on her first jump. In fact, she lost her footing when she landed and almost fell on her ass. Shaw growled at herself, thankful that no one had witnessed her failure.

 

She took a deep breath to calm herself. Shaw planted her feet and glared up at the ledge. Then she jumped again. This time she was successful.

 

But Shaw wasn’t alone.

 

There was a man crouching on the corner of the building. He dressed for a fight; Shaw could see bits of mail glinting in the sunlight peeking out from under his leather tunic. Short sword on his hip. A bow was clutched in his hand.

 

“Not exactly an alley way,” Shaw grumbled under her breath. The man was just perched there waiting. He was either a lookout or a sniper. Either way she couldn’t wait for the procession to reach his position just to find out. This guy wasn’t a perfect match to Root’s cryptic warning. Which in her opinion meant that there was someone else out there waiting. She needed him gone and she needed him gone quickly, then she could figure out that alleyway threat.

 

Shaw sprinted across the rooftop. She had her arms around the man’s throat before he knew anyone else was there. “Shh,” She hissed into his ear as he began to struggle against her hold. “Don’t make me snap your neck.”

 

He grabbed her arm in an attempt to throw her off to no avail. Shaw wrapped her legs around his waist and leaned back taking away his leverage. His struggles grew progressively weaker as his airflow diminished. Soon he was completely out.

 

She took a moment to search him. He had a couple of blades and a bit of coin on him in addition to his quiver and bow. Nothing too interesting. Shaw flipped him on to his belly and pulled his arms behind his back to secure him. They’d need someone alive for Carter to question. It was when Shaw pulled back his left arm, that she saw it.

 

He had a tattoo. A red stag. It took up the entirety of his forearm from wrist to the joint of his elbow. It marked him as a member of a mercenary company. A highly sought after, highly expensive one. “Someone really wants this jackass dead.”

 

Shaw worked quickly to bind his arms with a convenient length of rope he had among his belongings. A member of the Red Stag likely wouldn’t have come alone. The massive antlers on the head of the tattooed stag meant this man was in a command role. Which meant he definitely wasn’t the only man here. Tightening the last knot, Shaw scanned the buildings around her. Now that she was looking for them, she could clearly pick out two additional archers lying in wait a few buildings away.

 

They’d have to go first. She picked up her prisoner’s bow. It was of a spectacular make. He’d paid a fortune for a bow like this. She tested the pull and smiled. “Oh this is going to be fun.”

 

Shaw drew two arrows from the unconscious man’s quiver. She held one in her teeth as she drew back the bow with the other. She waited for a moment to feel for the wind. She’d need to be fast and accurate here. After one last breath to settle her focus, she loosed the first arrow.

 

The missile struck the archer on the furthest rooftop in the neck. He toppled over the side of the building and on to the street. Shaw could hear women screaming. Shouts from the caravan. The second archer was turning towards her, having followed the trajectory of her shot.

 

She loosed her second arrow before he could aim. “Loser,” She snorted. He hit the street beside the second carriage. She picked up the quiver and slung it across her shoulders. “That enough of a sign for you John?”

 

From the looks of things, it was. The king’s carriage began to pick up speed. The four guardsmen flanking it on horseback dug their heels into the sides of their mounts to keep pace.

 

Shaw wrinkled her nose. Smoke. The air was getting hazy. The smell was thick. Much more than a cook fire. That wasn’t a good sign. Shaw glanced around wildly. Where was it coming from?

 

Down below the members of the caravan were just as confused. “Can you see Sam?” Cole asked Reese, who was leaning out of one of the windows.

 

“No.” He clenched his jaw. “Are you carrying?”

 

Cole reached under his seat. Soon he was lifting up a brand new crossbow. “Once a Shadow.”

 

“Watch the rooftops. There could be more archers.” Cole nodded and went to lean out the opposite window. “Hey.” Reese grabbed his arm. “Try not to hit Shaw.”

 

The drivers picked up the pace. The snapping of their reins like tiny thunderclaps. The faces of the people on the street around them began to blur. The lead carriage was a full two horse lengths ahead of the second, that driver having reacted to the men falling from the rooftops first.

 

It was what saved the king.

 

King Harold’s carriage had just passed an alleyway between a tap room and a bakery, when a burning wagon shot out into the street behind it. Its presence made the road completely impassable. The second driver was barely able to slow his panicking team to prevent his vehicle from crashing.

 

“Damn it,” Carter swore as she watched from the rear window of the king’s carriage. The driver slowed it to a near crawl not knowing what his passengers would want to do.

 

“Oh dear,” King Harold gulped.

 

Lord Wellington made a halfhearted grab at the hilt of his sword. “The Steward and I could go back?”

 

“We knew something like this might happen,” Carter replied as she leaned out of the window to get a better look. People were already stumbling into the street behind them with buckets in an attempt to douse the flames. The carriage wasn’t getting back that way. They could go back on foot, like Wellington had suggested, but that would leave them open to any remaining archers waiting on the rooftops.

 

Not to mention it would leave King Harold with only a handful of guards. Four of the mounted troops were still with them, but if they were attacked in mass… “No,” She decided. Reese and Shaw were on their own. With a nod from Harold, Carter directed the driver to go on. Her priority was the king’s safety. She trusted that her comrades would get Lord Pierce and themselves back home in one piece.

 

To Reese that outcome was looking less and less likely as a second flaming wagon rolled behind his carriage blocking the two in. “We’re in a gantlet.”

 

The driver pulled the carriage to a stop. He clutched at an arrow in his shoulder. The remaining guards dismounted. One of them took an arrow to the throat. He was dead before he hit the ground. The other’s eyes scanned the rooftops to determine where the shot had come from. Reese and Cole took the opportunity to exit the carriage. “I’m going for the driver,” Reese shouted over the crackling and popping of the fire. Cole searched the street around them for any more attackers.

 

Cole winced as another one of the guardsmen was hit in the thigh with an arrow. The guard fell to his knees. One of his remaining fellows moved to stand in front of him with his shield to block any more arrows from striking him. Cole followed the trajectory of the shot given the angle which the arrow struck. He noticed a shadowy form on the roof of the bakery. He stepped from behind the carriage and brought his crossbow up to fire. Then suddenly his target was toppling from the building and landing in the street with a wet squelch.

 

A small figure looked down at the body before vanishing from view. Cole lowered his bow and shook his head, “Better late than never, Sam.”

 

Confident that Shaw would watch their backs for the moment, Cole called out to the guards. “Over here! We need to get him to cover.”

 

Reese had managed to pull the driver down from his box. “He’s going to need some patching up.” Before Cole could reply, a chorus of shouts rang out. Reese shifted the driver so that he was leaning on him as he drew his sword. “They’ve brought in ground troops.”

 

Cole placed the driver’s good arm over his shoulders. “Have I mentioned how much I hate going to parties with Sam?”

 

The guard had managed to drag his wounded companion to their side of the carriage. “I counted seven. Two of our men and Lord Pierce’s bodyguard are engaging them by his carriage.”

 

Reese glanced at Cole. “Stay here with the wounded.” He nodded to the uninjured guard. “You take this side of the street. I’ll work opposite. No one gets in the other carriage.” The guard stood up with a nod.

 

Cole held out his spare knife. Reese took it and stuck it in the top of his boot. “Be swift with a strong arm. And if the reaper comes, make him fight for you, Ser Reese.”

 

He smirked at the old blessing, “How often did you have to say that to Shaw?”

 

“It’s practically tattooed on my ass,” Cole called after him as he sprinted away from them. He sighed as he turned towards the driver and the wounded guard. “Now how am I going to get the both of you to better cover?”

 

Reese kept low as he jogged to the second carriage. The smoke from the burning wagons irritated his nose and throat. The wind had shifted blowing the smoke back towards the square instead of to the east. If it kept up, visibility would go to shit soon too.

 

There was more shouting. Joey was fighting with two men up ahead. Reese quickened his pace. He stabbed the closest man in the back as he ran past Joey’s fight to engage three more men who were charging as a second attack wave from the north end of the street.

 

He met the first man at a run. Reese swung his sword low, taking out the man’s legs with one sweep. He smoothly flipped his grip and stabbed the fallen man in the chest, knowing that two more were closing in on him. Reese had barely raised his blade from the twitching body when the second man came at him.

 

They circled each other. Reese tried to keep the third man in his peripheral vision as he blocked and parried his new opponent’s strikes. The man fought with finesse. He was quick on his feet and managed to land a glancing blow to Reese’s arm.

 

He was good, but Reese was better. A few minutes later he managed to twist the mercenary’s blade from his hand. Reese twisted his body to bring his sword up and around the man’s shield and stab him through the chest.

 

His opponent had barely fallen when something hit Reese in the knees. He fell to the ground, hard. Breath knocked from his lungs, he blinked up at the sky. He heard a wheezy sort of laugh as a shadow fell over him. Reese cursed himself for losing sight of the third man.

 

Reese rolled to the side just in time to avoid the man’s sword. He had to get back on his feet. He swung out wildly with his sword. It was more of an attempt to give himself room to move, than an actual foray to wound his opponent.

 

The man stumbled back. Then suddenly he dropped. There was an arrow in his left eye. Reese looked up to see Shaw give him a two fingered salute from the rooftop. “You’re welcome,” She shouted down to him before she disappeared from view.

 

The woman was so cocky it was insufferable. But damned if he wasn’t grateful she was on his side. He got to his feet and charged after another opponent.

 

Shaw searched for another target as well. It seemed that there were no more archers lying in wait on the rooftops. She scanned the street below for any easy marks. Reese had recovered his wits and found a new dance partner. Joey and one of the guards were squaring off with two men on the opposite side of the street. Looked like if Shaw wanted to pick another fight she would need to do it on the ground.

 

She sprinted to the edge of the rooftop and looked for a way to climb down. There weren’t any handholds to speak of on this building, but the next one over’s stone walls were rough and uneven. Shaw smirked. She backed up a few paces and then broke into a run. When her feet met the edge of the rooftop she leapt across the small alleyway between the buildings and landed on the next. Shaw lowered herself over the edge and began to make her way to the ground.

 

She was halfway down the side of the building when there was a scream. Shaw turned her head towards the street. The bleeding body of a guardsman was staining the ground red. His head was missing. The largest man she had ever seen was towering over the body, bloody axe in hand. The walking hulk was clad only in boots and leather pants. She watched as he scanned the street for another opponent.

 

Another guard rushed at him. The big man side stepped his first attack. The guard quickly recovered and lashed out with his sword. This time the giant let out a grunt as the guard’s sword sliced his chest. The guard attempted to press his advantage, stepping in closer. It was a mistake.

 

The mercenary allowed the guard to hit him again. Even from such a distance Shaw could see the red line of another cut stretching out against his ribcage. But the blow put the guard slightly off balance. The big man caught the guard’s arm and twisted. There was an audible crack and then the guard was screaming. The mercenary allowed him to fall to his knees. He raised the axe.

 

Joey rushed forward. “Stop!”

 

He laughed. He brought the axe down and slammed the flat of it against the side of the guard’s head. He fell unmoving onto the street.

 

The handful of cuts from his fight with the guards bled sluggishly as the big man stomped towards Joey. Shaw resumed her climb down the side of the shop. She had a bad feeling about this.

 

The two men were actively engaged by the time she made it to the ground. As she ran to the end of the alleyway Joey and the big man traded strikes. She begrudgingly admitted that the thief was pretty handy with a sword. For a thief of course.

 

When Joey executed a rather well done series of moves, forcing the giant back several paces, the man slipped his left hand behind his back. Shaw couldn’t see what he was doing. Either unbothered or having not noticed the move, Joey continued to slash at him with his sword. He managed to get around his block a couple of times and added to the bleeding wounds on his opponent’s chest.

 

After a particularly hard slash the giant man let out a roar and brought his left hand forward. Suddenly there was a cloud of dust in the air between them. He had thrown something into Joey’s eyes. He cried out and clawed at his face with his free hand.

 

Using the moment of distraction to the utmost advantage, the giant knocked Joey to the dirt. “Shit,” Shaw swore. Before she could think better of it she was charging between the two men. The bones of her arms rattled as she blocked what would have been a killing blow from the big guy with her sword.

 

“Wait your turn,” He growled. He leaned down until she could feel his fetid breath on her face. “Not done with the pretty boy.”

 

“He’s sitting the rest of this one out,” She snarled right back. Then she head-butted him for good measure.

 

The giant stumbled backwards from the blow. Shaw darted after him, increasing the space between him and Joey who was still desperately wiping at his eyes. Her sword flashed, leaving a furrow in the big man’s thigh. He grunted and then smiled at her with crooked teeth. He raised the axe and took a swing.

 

Shaw dodged. She swung out with her sword again. This time the man blocked. She withdrew and took a half step backwards. He swung the axe again. She raised her sword to block. They repeated the pattern several times. The power behind the giant man’s strikes increased each time.

 

It seemed his strategy was to violently knock Shaw’s sword from her hand. He’d probably assumed due to her size that he was strong enough to eventually break her hold on her weapon. It was clear to Shaw that he relied on brute force to overwhelm his opponents and when that didn’t work, as in Joey’s case, he cheated.

 

Too bad for him, Shaw was an expert at chopping down big brutes.

 

When she noticed him shifting his weight to his back foot, prepping for his most powerful swing yet, she made her own move. Dropping low, his blade swung through the empty air where her head had been the moment prior. His momentum caused him to stumble forward. Shaw drove her shoulder into his gut and the combined force caused him to topple over her and land on his back in the dirt. Before he could recover, Shaw’s blade swung in an arc cleaving his head from his shoulders.

 

Shaw turned her head to look over at Joey, who was still on the ground. “You good?”

 

He blinked up at her with wide, watery eyes. She probably looked a sight, having not gotten clear of the blood spray. “Yeah.”

 

She looked around. Things seemed to finally be calming down. There was one guard remaining by Pierce’s carriage. Reese was fighting what looked to be the last three mercenaries between the two carriages. “Go dunk your head in that trough over there. Ser Reese and I’ve got clean up.” Shaw nodded towards the water and then rushed to Reese’s side.

 

“I think that was the last one,” Reese announced minutes later as he flicked the blood from his sword.

 

“Yeah, they’ve all been put down,” Shaw agreed. “Cole!” She called out. “How are the wounded?” She asked when he popped his head out of a doorway like a giant groundhog.

 

“Still here,” He replied. Shaw watched as he stepped out of cover. Reese nodded to the remaining guardsman, who turned and totted over to where Cole was standing. He turned to look at something behind him before pointing at the carriages. The guards began to help each other take the wounded to the carriage she had shared with Cole earlier.

 

A plan for the injured squared away, Cole limped over to them. “You two alright?”

 

“Fine,” Shaw replied.

 

“Where’s Durban?”

 

“Here,” Joey answered coming to stand with them. He’d clearly followed Shaw’s orders, considering the sopping state of his hair. His eyes were still red despite the dunk in the trough. They’d likely be irritated for a couple days depending on what had been in the mix that had been tossed in his face. Shaw decided to grab the pouch off of the big merc’s body and give it to Root. Maybe she could figure it out for future use.

 

“That ended better than I thought it would at first,” Cole sighed as he reached down to rub his leg. Standing most of the day and then crouching in doorways wasn’t as easy on his body as it once had been.

 

Shaw agreed, “Yeah, they didn’t put up too much of a fight. Given how long this attack must have taken to plan, you’d think they would have sent better warriors.” The big one was the only challenge in the bunch.

 

“Except we don’t know who sent them.” Joey frowned, “We don’t know for sure what their target was either. Have no way to find out, since they’re all dead.”

 

“Cleary you think we’re amateurs,” Shaw sneered at him. “I left one alive on that roof over there.” She pointed to the building where she had ambushed the first archer. “Mind picking him up? If you’re not too busy critiquing our methods of course.”

 

“Of course not,” He replied. “It’d be my pleasure, my lady.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. Cole picking up on her level of aggression, decided to step in. “Come on,” He nodded to the building Shaw had pointed out. “I’ll give you a hand.” The pair of them set off without another word.

 

“You want to explain what you’ve got against Durbin?”

 

“Not especially.” She had saved the thief, because he was an ally in jeopardy. It didn’t mean she had to like the guy, let alone put up with any bull shit from him. Instead of saying anything else, Shaw knelt next to one of the fallen men and began to search his body. Extra knife, bit of dried meat, well hello. She pocketed a few coins.

 

“Really?” Reese snorted.

 

“He’s not going to be spending it.” She stood and checked another body. That one’s pockets were empty. She did avail herself of his cloak. All the blood on her face and neck was getting a bit sticky. In the absence of a proper towel, the moth-eaten fabric would do.

 

“You noticed the tattoos?” She asked when most of the gore was wiped away.

 

“Hard not to,” Reese grumbled. One of the last men he had fought carried his mark on the right side of his face. “Can’t believe someone wants Pierce in the ground badly enough to hire the Red Stag.”

 

“I know, right?” It did however explain why the dragon in Root’s head decided that they needed to be involved.

 

“There were at least three squads.” He began to count the bodies of the fallen men to confirm his theory. “This kind of operation doesn’t come cheap.”

 

Shaw tossed the cloak she had been using to wipe the blood from her face to the ground, “I think between the two of us we can probably push that wagon out of the way now that we don’t have to worry about any knives in our backs.”

 

“Wait,” Reese pointed. There was a man running down the street. “We’ve got a runner.”

 

Must have been the man Joey had been fighting near the front before the big guy had shown up. Shaw rolled her eyes. Of course he criticizes her and then doesn’t even realize that he left one of their opponents alive to stab them all in the back. Good thing the fleeing mercenary appeared to be a coward. She nodded to Reese, “You want to handle that?”

 

“Why, you too tired?” He smirked.

 

“Just thought you’d like to up your pathetic tally.”

 

“Wasn’t aware we were keeping count.”

 

“We’re always keeping score.” She drew her sword. “Not to spoil anything for you, but I’m kicking your ass.”

 

“Guess I better take this last one then.”

 

“Were you planning on doing that today?” Shaw asked as the man put more ground between the three of them.

 

“Don’t worry, the road’s still blocked in that direction.”

 

“I’m more concerned about him making it to Pierce.”

 

“Good point.” The pair of them began to run towards Lord Pierce’s carriage.

 

But the mercenary didn’t appear to be in the mind to finish his contract. He ran past the carriage, towards the one with the injured guards. “Looks like someone doesn’t want to play anymore.”

 

Before Reese could reply, a flask sailed out of the window of Pierce’s carriage and struck the fleeing man in the back. His body was soon enveloped by blue-white sparks. He fell twitching to the dirt.

 

Shaw glanced at Reese, “You don’t get credit for that.” The pair of them jogged towards the fallen man.

 

At the sound of their approach, Zoe stuck her head out of the window. “Did I get him?”

 

Reese gaped at her, “Where did you get that flask?”

 

“Root gave it to me.” Because of course she had.

 

Lord Pierce’s head appeared in the window beside her. “Root? The assassin?”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. “Yeah, try to keep up.”

 

“She’s here?”

 

“Do you see another woman here?”

 

“Uh is that a trick question?”

 

Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose. She could feel a headache coming on that had nothing to do with the knock she’d taken to the head earlier. “I swear to every single god floating around out there, I do not know why we saved this idiot.”

 

Reese snorted before gathering himself again. “Just relax Lord Pierce. The danger has passed for the moment.”

 

“Joey?”

 

“He’s fine,” Reese answered, slightly afraid of how Shaw might reply. “He’s collecting a prisoner.”

 

“In that case,” Lord Pierce ducked back inside of the carriage. A moment later he shoved his arm back through the window. There was a bottle of wine in his hand. “A drink to my health?”


	6. They Would Have Rather Heard The Tale Of Ser Shaw The Grumbly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet night out with friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who else lost their damn minds today when they heard about Amy's new show?

 

 

The second night of the Solstice Festival was dedicated to telling stories. Tales of the gods’ grandeur and wrath. Legends of great warriors and their exploits. That time late uncle so and so had an unfortunate encounter with a goat. Second night was a perfect opportunity to gather your fellows and wash your cares away with a cup or five of ale.

 

Lord Pierce, who held any opportunity for drinking ale in high regard, had enthusiastically joined the crowd in one of the seedier establishments in Old Town. Zoe, who was on watch for the evening, would have stuck out like a sore thumb had she followed him inside on her own. Fortunately for her, the place also served what Ser Shaw had dubbed a steak better than sex.

 

Or as Root dubbed it, “the steak better than all the disappointing sex you had prior to meeting me.”

 

Being a regular visitor, no one questioned the Dragon Slayer and her companion’s presence. They had been led to a table with a clear view of the dining room. Two tankards of ale had appeared almost immediately after they sat down. They had ordered dinners and settled in for their watch a little over two hours prior.

 

Shaw’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as she chewed. “How do they make it so good?” She moaned.

 

“Do you and the steak need some alone time?” Zoe laughed. Typically, one didn’t hear such noises outside of a bedroom…or brothel.

 

Shaw glared at her before pointing her knife at her plate. “Seriously, this is some type of dark magic. Carter should investigate.” She shoved another bite in her mouth. “And then tell the palace staff everything.”

 

“I think it’s just butter.” The steak was good, but Zoe didn’t quite get her enthusiasm. Especially seeing as Shaw didn’t do enthusiasm in general. Or smiling most of the time. She tilted her head to the side. Root would know about the frequency of the moaning.

 

Not that Zoe would ever ask her about it.

 

“Magic butter,” Shaw replied around another mouthful. Had to be. Mere mortals could not produce something this tasty through conventional means.

 

“Speaking of investigations,” Zoe nodded towards the center of the room where Lord Pierce was seated at a long table with Joey and several others. “Lord Pierce doesn’t seem any worse for our brush with death this afternoon.”

 

“A few gallons of wine do wonders for trauma I’m told.” Shaw’s eyes narrowed as Pierce began to lead an apparent toast to Joey. Since when did they give out medals for having your ass handed to you? “What’s his story?”

 

“Who?”

 

“Joey,” Shaw snidely remarked.

 

Zoe cocked an eyebrow at her tone but decided not to comment on it. “The rumors are true. He’s a thief turned bodyguard. Carter arrested him a few times back in his wilder days.”

 

“Which weren’t that long ago from what I hear.” If she stabbed her next bite of steak with a bit more enthusiasm than the last, it was simply due to her hand slipping.

 

“You worried he had something to do with our threat on his boss?” The look on her face indicated that she didn’t agree.

 

Shaw shook her head, “No I have it on good authority that he isn’t involved.” Oh how she wished he were though.

 

“Root would know.”

 

Her tone rankled Shaw. “What do you mean by that?”

 

“Nothing,” Zoe shrugged. “I just know they worked together a few times. Quite well in fact, from what I heard after the fact. She knows what Durban is capable of better than most of us.”

 

“Sure,” Shaw grumbled as she took a long drink from her cup.

 

“You know if it weren’t for John, I wouldn’t mind getting to know Durbin a little better. That ass of his,” She made a grabbing motion with her hand, “Scrumptious.”

 

Shaw coughed as her mouthful of ale tried to make its way down the wrong side of her throat. “Seriously?”

 

“Come on, you gotta admit, ass aside, he makes the whole charming rogue thing look good.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Charm? Big deal.” Shaw could have charm coming out of her ass if she wanted.

 

And if most people weren’t infuriating morons.

 

“Honestly, he wouldn’t even have to speak.”

 

“Ugh, Zoe.” One Shaw really did not need to hear that. Two she was easily just as good looking. No, better. And with none of the bits Root didn’t like. Not that it was even about Root. The man was suspicious, with a capital S, all on his own.

 

“I’m sensing some tension here.”

 

“No, you’re not.”

 

“Uh huh.” Zoe considered pressing Shaw further but swiftly rethought that impulse when she caught sight of the white-knuckled grip she had on her knife. “But back to business. You think this afternoon was the end of it?”

 

“They were hired mercenaries.” Shaw took another drink. This time everything stayed where it was supposed to. “Seeing as we don’t know who did the hiring, I’m going to go with no.” That was also the reason why they were keeping up their watch on Pierce. There was no way of knowing until either the merc they left alive spilled the name of whoever contracted with the Red Stag, or Root got the all clear from on high.

 

And seeing as Root hadn’t been seen since this afternoon? Shaw stabbed another bite of steak. “The whole thing still feels weird.”

 

“I don’t know how you tell the difference anymore.” Zoe took another sip from her tankard. She idly noted that it was nearing empty again. She’d have to wave down the barmaid, because from the looks of things Pierce wasn’t leaving until he had to be carried out. “Feels like every day is chocked full of oddities lately.”

 

“At least it’s not boring.”

 

“I don’t know. I might enjoy boring.”

 

Shaw cocked an eyebrow at her.

 

“For a week or so at least.” Zoe leaned forward like she was about to spill something vital, “I found a gray hair the other day.”

 

“Think of it this way. You lived long enough to go gray.” Shaw shook her head. “I always thought I’d be nothing but rotting meat in an unmarked grave somewhere by now.”

 

Zoe frowned. “Why is it that even your attempts to be comforting are sort of scary?”

 

Shaw shrugged. Then burped.

 

“Thank you, your grace,” She smirked.

 

“What the hell was that by the way?”

 

“Didn’t you know the engagement came with a title?”

 

Shaw’s eyes narrowed. “Have you been talking to Gen or something?” It was clearly a conspiracy.

 

Before Zoe could reply, a cheer rose from the patrons seated around them. The man occupying the small makeshift stage at the other end of the tavern took a bow. “Another tale?” The tavern’s owner cried out. “Who among you has another tale to tell?”

 

“Has anyone shared the story of Death and the Maiden?” A feminine voice asked. Shaw’s eyes scanned the crowd. Talibah was standing up from a seat in the far corner. She was dressed in different clothes than what she had worn earlier that day. The black leather vest and dark green, long sleeved under tunic were still of quality make, but they were much more understated. Her hair was different too. That afternoon it had been loose. Now it was done up in what must have been hundreds of tiny braids. Probably why Shaw hadn’t noticed her when she walked in.

 

At the many shaken heads and calls of “no” to her question, Talibah smiled. She weaved between the tables towards the stage. “Seems like everyone is slumming it tonight,” Zoe remarked.

 

“Did you see her come in?”

 

“Nope.” She shook her head. “She knows how to blend.”

 

“Surprisingly well for a merchant,” Shaw noted.

 

“I know her!” Lord Pierce shouted as Talibah stepped up and on to the stage. Shaw rolled her eyes. What an absolute idiot.

 

Talibah settled herself upon the tall stool placed in the middle of the raised platform and then began to speak, “There once lived a wizard of such renown that he could order Death itself against those who threatened his lands. As many with great power are wont to do, the wizard was corrupted by the very power he coveted, and became a terrible tyrant. He ruled harshly over his people, demanding tribute at whim and punishing those he found lacking.”

 

“There was a small village deep in the forest on the edge of his lands that failed to send him proper tribute twice in a row. That was an insult that would not go unpunished. Should he kill the mayor? Raise the entire town? No, that would be a waste of potential resources. He was a tyrant but a pragmatic one.”

 

Talibah tapped her chin as if she were the one considering the proper punishment rather than a character in her tale. “But the village must pay for their insult. To let them go unpunished would only encourage others to rebel. What would be enough?”

 

“Flowers usually work for me,” Zoe chuckled as she took a drink.

 

“A good steak,” Shaw chimed in with a smirk.

 

“Now there also lived in this village a maiden. Daughter of the local magistrate. Beautiful. Kind. Much beloved by the people. Many in the village would be distraught should any harm come to her. The wizard smiled as he considered the girl. She was perfect. She would be his target.”

 

“The wizard arranged to visit the town. Beheaded the mayor, incompetence could not be tolerated after all, and sought out the maiden. When he found her he enacted a powerful curse. She would now be marked for death. The Lord of the Underworld would drag the maiden into the abyss within three days.”

 

“That work done, the wizard declared there would be a grand masque in one week’s time to celebrate the appointment of the new mayor. He wished to revel in the people’s sorrow first hand.”

 

Zoe snorted into her cup. “Think the guy was related to King Greer?”

 

“If a dragon shows up in this story I’m walking out.”

 

“Oh maybe when she’s done I can regale the crowd with the tale of how I and I alone knew that Ser Shaw the Grumbly would be the one to slay Samaritan?”

 

“I will lock you in a carriage with Lord Pierce again.”

 

Zoe frowned at her empty cup, “At least there would be wine.”

 

“And bringing me in was Root’s idea.”

 

“I executed that idea, so really I deserve the credit.”

 

“Uh huh.” Root simply helped kill the damn thing. No need to offer any praise there, nope none at all. “Sure, Morgan.” Zoe threw a leftover bit of bread at her. To her disappointment Shaw easily batted it away with her knife and went back to eating. A man two tables over let out a shout as the bread landed in his drink. Zoe sunk down in her seat.

 

Talibah was still going despite the commotion, “Her song was so sweet that Death’s hand stilled.”

 

Shaw groaned. Yeah, right. Death didn’t stop for anyone in her experience. It was either your time or it wasn’t.

 

“Yet Death could not return to the underworld without a prize. The wizard’s men following the girl through the streets were taken instead.”

 

“If he had minions, why the hell did he need to summon death itself? Overkill much?”

 

Zoe tried unsuccessfully to gain one of the bar maids’ attention. She sat back with a huff. “I suppose if this wizard and his men were competent, there wouldn’t be much of a story.”

 

“It’s not much of a story now.”

 

“Who do I have to sleep with to get a refill around here?”

 

“The next day Death sought out the maiden once again. This time she was in the forest searching for medicine. Her eyes were so bright when she discovered the herbs she was looking for, that Death could not bear to see them dim. But again Death could not leave a task unfulfilled. So the wolf stalking her path was taken instead.”

 

“Oh for gods’ sake!” Shaw was glad Bear wasn’t here to hear this crap. This time a few of the tavern’s patrons turned at her outburst.

 

Zoe twirled her index finger in the air. “Back around boys. Nothing to see here.” At least she was fairly sure Shaw wasn’t going to rush the stage. One never knew the Dragon Slayer’s limits when animals or food was involved. Better to try and soothe the beast, “I’m sure no wolves were actually harmed.”

 

“Of course not,” Shaw scoffed.

 

“She was so kind that Death would not deprive the world of such gentleness. The poor soul she was tending to would take her place.”

 

“The night of the ball arrived. The maiden, like the rest of the village, dressed in her finest clothes and made her way to the mayor’s home.”

 

“Death too made its way to the event. For Death had decided to speak to the maiden that evening. If only to determine just what power, it was that she wielded over it. As such, Death took on a human form. One it believed would be pleasing to the maiden’s eye. As the ball was a masquerade no one would question the presence of a stranger among them.”

 

“The wizard was astonished to see the maiden among those dancing in the crowd. She should have been dead days ago. What magic did this mere slip of a girl possess that she could defy him so?”

 

“The maiden was unaware of his study. An accomplished dancer, she was too busy flitting from partner to partner to worry for more than the state of her feet.”

 

“It was well into the evening when a voice she did not recognize asked the maiden to dance. Due to the masks everyone wore, she could not tell who was doing the asking. Yet the stranger had kind eyes, so she readily accepted the offer.”

 

“Death took the maiden into its arms with a smile. They glided across the floor, perfectly in step with one another.”

 

“Jon, the maiden asked. No, my lady, was the laughing reply. And then the maiden discovered that along with kind eyes, her partner had a deep rich laugh. The sort of laugh that was not given often, but was given without reserve when it was.”

 

“Michael? No, my lady.”

 

“The baker’s boy? No, my lady.”

 

“By the end of their first dance the maiden was utterly charmed. Death smiled, and with a bow requested another turn. She readily agreed.”

 

“The wizard frowned from where he stood overlooking the dancefloor. This must be why the girl had survived his plotting. She had a protector.”

 

“Or it was a shit plan,” Shaw mumbled around another bite of her meal. “Whatever.”

 

Zoe could admit that it wasn’t the most enthralling tale she had ever heard, but Shaw was being weirder than normal, “What is bothering you so much about this?”

 

She shrugged, “I don’t think she’s telling it right.”

 

“You’ve heard this one before?”

 

Shaw shook her head, “I don’t think so.”

 

“Then how do you know she’s not telling it properly?”

 

Shaw didn’t have an answer to that. But there was something about the story, and the way Talibah was telling it, that didn’t sit right with her. Besides the fact that the subject matter was ridiculous of course. Something felt off.

 

“The wizard appeared behind the couple. He stabbed Death in the back with his great sword. The maiden opened her mouth to scream just as the sharp blade tore through Death’s human flesh and pierced the maiden through the heart. Death confined in a now dying human body could do nothing but watch as the maiden gave her last breath.”

 

The crowd around Shaw booed. She couldn’t blame them. The crap story was bringing down the mood.

 

Talibah was unfazed. She smiled as she continued the tale. “The wizard smiled in triumph. He had finally grasped his vengeance. However, his pride blinded him to the angry crowd around him. The people had witnessed his crime, and the people rose against him.”

 

“When Death’s human heart stopped, a gateway was opened. As the wizard screamed, icy fingers reached out and drug him into the underworld. Though their hearts were heavy at the loss of the maiden, the people were now free. They buried her with honor vowing never to forget her sacrifice.”

 

“It’s said that Death still searches the beyond for the maiden, so that someday they might dance again.” There was a smattering of applause as Talibah sketched out a small bow.

 

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

 

“I don’t know,” A voice called from just to Shaw’s left. Root smiled as she slid onto the bench beside her. “I think it’s sort of sweet.”

 

“You would.”

 

“Someone’s grumpy.”

 

“They ran out of steaks before Shaw could order a fourth one to hoark down.” The fact that Shaw could eat so much and stay so small was the real dark magic around here if you asked Zoe.

 

“Awe,” Root frowned. “My poor girl.” Her left hand disappeared under the table.

 

“That story was stupid,” Shaw grumbled. “You can’t kill death. It’s death.”

 

“It’s an allegory.” Root reached out with her right hand and snagged a bit of beef from Shaw’s plate. She smiled as she popped the morsel into her mouth. Zoe was stunned she still had a hand. Shaw had stabbed people for less. When she had swallowed, Root continued her thought. “Power of love, pride before the fall, and all that.”

 

“Call it what you want.” Shaw slapped her hand away when she went in for a second bite. “It’s still stupid.”

 

Root simply smiled at her, total adoration in her gaze. Zoe shook her head. She never thought she’d see the day that Root of all people would be quite so tamed. A barmaid appeared at her elbow with three tankards. She sat them on the table and picked up Zoe and Shaw’s empty ones.

 

“Can you bring a bowl of the stew? And three of the apple tarts if there are any left,” Root requested. She turned her attention back to Shaw. “I’m absolutely famished.” She was not talking about the food.

 

“None of that,” Zoe said slapping her hand on the table. “We’re working.”

 

“Indeed. You two are.” Root stressed the you. Shaw swallowed as she pointedly moved her left hand. The table concealed just what exactly that hand was up to. But anyone passing by could guess.

 

Zoe was not about to sit here while they did what she thought they were doing. No way. She had witnessed enough horrors for one day. “And now you’re here so hands where I can see ‘em.”

 

Root kept her eyes on Shaw’s face as she replied, “Ah but I’m at my best when I can mix work and play.”

 

“Speaking of,” Shaw drawled, recovering a bit of her wits. She scooted as far as she could from Root given the small bench they were seated on. “What was so important that you had to skip out on head smashing time?” And stay gone for several hours afterwards.

 

Root pouted for a moment before placing both of her hands around her tankard of ale. She took a sip, purely for dramatic effect. “A cargo manifest,” She finally replied over the rim of her cup.

 

“What kind of cargo?”

 

Root began ticking items off on her fingers. “Silks, spices. Several exotic cheeses. Wine.”

 

“And the contents of various local pantries are important how?” Most households contained those items. The list didn’t seem all that special to Zoe. As if reading her thoughts, Shaw grunted her agreement.

 

“Don’t know yet.”

 

“You ever wonder why your personal god can’t ever tell us anything straight?”

 

“Where would the fun be in that?” It was a puzzle, and Root loved her puzzles.

 

“It’s giving Zoe gray hairs.”

 

“One gray hair. One!” Zoe snapped. “And I told you that in confidence.”

 

“Daizo may have something for that.” Root placed both her elbows on the table, so that she could lean closer to Zoe. “Remember when my hair went blue?”

 

“Thank you, but I’d rather not almost explode just because of one,” She looked at Shaw, daring her to challenge that number. “One gray hair.”

 

Shaw bumped Root with her shoulder. “She could try that whole bathing in the blood of virgins thing we discussed when you found some grays.”

 

“I found no such thing,” Root snapped. At Shaw’s raised eyebrow she added, “The amount of virgins required is still impractical.”

 

Zoe blinked at them and then downed the entire contents of her tankard. “I really do not want to know.”


	7. Thump Like A Broken Sail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lovely day for a sail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hallelujah, that con panel. Did we all see the panel? That alt ending of theirs is totally canon now right?

 

The following day shone bright and beautiful. The winds were calm. The sky was a brilliant blue. It was a perfect day to be on the water.

 

Shaw took a deep breath, allowing the salty air to fill her lungs. “Someone’s being adorable,” Root husked in her ear.

 

“Someone better not be referring to me.”

 

“Who else would I refer to as adorable?” Root grinned. In her loose white shirt and indigo breeches paired with knee high boots, one might confuse her for a sailor. If Shaw were ever to even consider using the term adorable, the picture Root made at the moment might be her definition of it.

 

She really was not the type though.

 

“Someone less likely to stab you?” She mused.

 

“Oh no, Sameen,” Root chuckled. “I don’t find boring people all that adorable.”

 

“When are we getting underway?”

 

“The long boats are almost ready.” They’d be rowing out to where _The Pride of Thornhill_ was anchored near the entrance to the harbor. Lord Pierce was leery of having the ship actually dock given the crowds in the city for the festival, thinking it far too easy to slip in spies. It was the most sensible thing he had ever said in Shaw’s opinion.

 

To that end, and on King Harold’s suggestion, they were departing from the commercial docks rather than the section reserved for the royal navy nearer the outer rim of the harbor. Less opportunities for espionage. The gathered assembly milled around the square behind them, as they waited. Sailors were moving about the commercial ships, checking rigging, hauling supplies to and fro, and unloading cargo into waiting wagons. Gulls cried overhead. It was like an old familiar song to Shaw as she stood among the organized chaos.

 

Root tucked her chin over Shaw’s left shoulder, “Do you miss it?”

 

“What?”

 

“Life on a ship?”

 

“I didn’t actually live on a ship you know?” Even if she had, she spent far more years skipping from guildhall to guildhall once she had become an assassin. Her life before was hazy. Warped like a cracked mirror. Some memories distorted, others as bright and clear as if they had just occurred a moment ago.

 

“I know being around all this makes you think of your father.”

 

That was true. Maybe it was why she had been a bit unsettled the past couple days. Still her memories of him weren’t bad in and of themselves. “He would have killed to stalk the deck of a ship like _The Pride_.” Shaw could share that much.

 

“At least his daughter is around to do it for him. I’m personally quite thankful for that.” Root’s lips brushed the back of her neck. “I’m sure he’s responsible for our beautiful weather today.”

 

Shaw snorted as she took a half step forward to create some space between them. “If he had any say in the weather, we’d never see another winter. He hated the cold more than I do.”

 

“Oh?” Root smiled. She was always giddy whenever Shaw trusted her enough to share any stray morsels of her past. “That is a great deal of hate.” Her girl absolutely detested the snow. Root for her part didn’t mind it so much, especially as it gave her the perfect excuse to cuddle up to said girl in front of a cheery fire.

 

“It is a good day to be on the water though,” Shaw allowed. “Can you imagine what a nightmare it would be carting all these idiots out there on rough seas.” The complaints, not to mention the vomit.

 

“There are worse ways to spend the day.”

 

“Better ones too,” Shaw snorted.

 

“Well, that goes without saying, Sweetie.” Root’s eyes tracked a hawk as it flew from one of the nearby rooftops to perch on the foremast of the cargo ship docked closest to where they stood. “Curious.”

 

“What?”

 

She pointed to the bird that had caught her attention. “That’s not a breed one typically sees along the coast.”

 

Shaw pursed her lips, “You and your uncle and your birdwatching.” Root and Harold shared the odd habit. Shaw liked animals, but didn’t get the appeal of cataloguing every feather on the ass of every species of bird one stumbled across. But the royals seemed to adore it. Must be a scholar thing.

 

“Knowledge is power, Sameen.”

 

“And knowing that bird got lost somehow is going to be helpful when exactly?”

 

“You never know.”

 

“Lady Ginsberg?” They turned to see Joey waving from over by the longboats. He and Ian had been responsible for coordinating with _The Pride’s_ Captain to have enough men to man them for the trip. “Do you have a moment?”

 

“I better go see what he wants.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Shaw grumbled. Root looked at her quizzically. “Are you going or not?”

 

“Of course,” She frowned, not understanding where Shaw’s ire was coming from. “Be back soon.”

 

“Yeah,” Shaw sighed as she walked away. She turned so that she couldn’t see them speaking. She knew that if Joey even looked at Root halfway wrong she’d stomp over there and cause a scene they couldn’t afford.

 

One of the dock cats gave up its search for rats and scraps for a moment to butt against Shaw’s shins. She knelt down and gave it a scratch between the ears. “Sorry, pal. I don’t have anything to eat on me.”

 

The cat let out an indignant meow and then continued to paw at her legs. “You remind me of a certain handsy princess. You know that?”

 

The cat twisted and twirled a path around her legs and between her feet. At one point it swatted at her ass with a paw. “This behavior isn’t helping your argument.” The meow turned to a deep purr as Shaw began to scratch between its ears again.

 

She had a fleeting image of a fat tabby gnawing on the top of her father’s boot. Tom? Had that been its name? A shout of her own name broke her from her reverie. Shaw stood and searched for the source of the voice. A tall blonde man was striding across the square towards her.

 

Hayden Price was one of Zoe’s little birds. Her collection of spies, smugglers, and swindlers who traded favors and information to keep them from the crown’s dungeons for their own indiscretions. “Ser Shaw.” He called again as he trotted over to her.

 

“Price, what brings you this way?”

 

“Cole,” He replied, slightly out of breath. Had he run over here from the shop?

 

“Is everything alright?”

 

“Oh fine,” Price waved her off. “He just wanted to let you know he can’t make the trip today.”

 

That was odd. He had been annoyingly excited about it yesterday. “He say why?”

 

“Seems the wife is still a bit under the weather. He’s staying home to tend to her.” He smirked, “Awfully, sweet that friend of yours.”

 

“Sweet enough to put a bolt through your eye at fifty paces, if he ever hears you say so.”

 

“And don’t I know it,” Price laughed. He wasn’t fool enough to say such a thing to his face.

 

“How did you get roped into playing messenger boy?”

 

“Oh Lady Morgan has me running down a list of certain items.” He took a half step closer to her and lowered his voice, “From a certain cargo manifest.” So Root had left the rest of that hunt to Zoe. “One such item was in Cole’s possession.”

 

“Zoe doesn’t really think Cole is up to anything?”

 

“Course not,” Price chuckled. “But she’d kick my ass up and down the harbor if I wasn’t thorough in confirming every item’s location.”

 

“You’re a smart fellow, Hayden. You know Lady Morgan doesn’t ask that you do these things on a whim.”

 

He smirked, “You never know with her.”

 

“Shaw!” Reese was making his way over to them. He was dressed in what the court had dubbed his official uniform. Black breeches, black tunic, black boots, with a green and gold doublet. The only concession to their plans for the day, was that there were no sleeves on his tunic or the doublet.

 

Price nodded to Reese, “Ser.”

 

“Hayden.”

 

He looked back at Shaw, “Do you need me to take a message back to Cole?”

 

“Nah, I’ll check in on him when we get back.”

 

“I’ll just be off then.”

 

“Keep your head down, Price.”

 

He smiled. “Same to you, Ser Shaw.”

 

“Where’s Carter?” She asked Reese when they were alone. The pair of them were supposed to ride over from the palace together.

 

“Checking in with Pierce’s men.” He pointed to something behind Shaw. She turned to see Carter, who was dressed in a similar fashion to Root, inspecting the dock where the longboats were moored. A few nobles were milling about, waiting on the time to board. Shaw also idly noted that Root and Joey were nowhere in sight.

 

“Doesn’t look like she found who she was looking for.”

 

“Lady Carter!”

 

They turned to see Ian striding across the square from where a few vendors had set up stalls in hopes of tempting a few travelers to try their wares. He was carrying a rose in his hand. “Really?” Shaw scoffed.

 

They watched as Ian handed Carter the flower with a flourish once he reached her side. “What do we know?”

 

“Zoe checked him out. No family ties to speak of. He’s apparently been working for Pierce for the last year.”

 

Reese nodded, “You think he could be working an angle?”

 

“On Carter?” Shaw snorted. “That’d be like working an angle on a shark.” An excellent way to lose a limb. No one was that stupid.

 

“So you think his interest is genuine?”

 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, John, but Carter is kind of hot.” More than kind of actually. But she had said enough on the topic already.

 

“Don’t let Root hear you say that.”

 

“I can comment on someone’s looks without Root wanting to commit murder.” In theory. And Root liked Carter.

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“Besides she’d say the same thing if she was here.”

 

He glanced around. “Where is she by the way?”

 

The playfulness bled from Shaw’s tone, “Joey needed to ask about something.”

 

“You ever going to let me in on what your issue with Durban is?”

 

“He’s a thief?” Shaw remembered a time when that would have sufficed.

 

“Hasn’t been for a while now I’m told.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. Why was everyone so intent on standing up for the guy? “You’re not the least bit suspicious of the man who used to be a thief paling around with our mark?”

 

“What does Root say?”

 

“She vouches for him.”

 

“Then I’d say you need to let it go for now.”

 

Shaw decided what she needed was to change the subject. “Root says we’ll be getting underway soon. How are we going to go about security spread out across all these boats?” He and Carter were supposed to figure that out while they were on babysitting duty last night.

 

“Carter has a few men riding along out of uniform. Since the king won’t be coming to the ship, the four of us can focus on Pierce while the guards watch the crowd.”

 

Wait four? “Alright, King Harold I get.” It was fairly well known around the court that the king had a strong dislike for watercraft. There was an incident when he was a younger man, though no one discussed it in detail. “But Zoe’s not joining us today?”

 

Reese shook his head. “She also has a thing about boats. There was an episode when she was a girl. Something to do with giant turtles.”

 

Shaw blinked at him, “Giant turtles?”

 

“We’ve only spoken of it once,” He nodded. “She was drunk when she explained it to me so the turtles may or may not be real.”

 

“Right.” That was one story she wasn’t going to ask anything more about.

 

Reese appeared to agree, swiftly steering the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Zoe is keeping King Harold and Gen company. They’ll be spending the afternoon in one of Lord Elias’ taprooms near the docks.”

 

“Why isn’t Gen coming?” It should have been safe enough for her to attend with all of them coming along.

 

“She gets seasick in the bath,” Root answered as she joined them. She had procured a ridiculously floppy leather hat from somewhere while she was gone. The brim of the damn thing was so wide that it left half her face in shadow. “The poor dear turns green just looking at a boat.”

 

Shaw frowned. Now that she thought about it, she never had seen Gen near a ship in the years she had known the girl. Not even a row boat. She looked back at Reese, “Harper with them?”

 

“And several guards,” He nodded. “They’ll be fine.”

 

Satisfied that the rest of their entourage would be well taken care of, Shaw turned her focus back to Root. “What did Durban want?”

 

“Oh I’m going to ride over with Lord Pierce.”

 

“You are huh?”

 

“Joey wanted to formally introduce me. Since we’re old friends and they’re new friends and all.”

 

“Of course he did.”

 

Reese nodded, “That’s great.” Shaw’s head whipped around to glare at him. “We needed to have someone with Pierce anyway,” He shrugged. “Now we don’t have to come up with an excuse.”

 

“Great,” Shaw grumbled through her teeth.

 

“Everyone ready?” Carter asked as she walked over to them. “Ian has a boat waiting for us.”

 

“Root’s riding with Pierce,” Reese offered in reply.

 

“Oh really?”

 

“Joey wants to introduce him to Lady Ginsberg.”

 

“He still hasn’t figured out who you are?”

 

Root haughtily raised her head. “I’m a chameleon, Lady Carter.” The effect was slightly diminished by the floppy hat.

 

“Or Pierce is an idiot,” Shaw replied.

 

“Both of those things can be true,” Root smiled.

 

“You two go on. I’m going to see Root to her boat.”

 

“That’s really not necessary, Sweetie.”

 

“I insist.”

 

Carter and Reese shared a look. “Alright Shaw. I’m going to let the crowd know they can begin boarding. Just come find us when you’re ready.”

 

“You don’t need to go to so much trouble,” Root tried to argue as they began walking to the end of the dock.

 

“No trouble,” Shaw countered.

 

“Lady Ginsberg!” Joey smiled as he saw them approach. “I don’t think we have room for your friend.”

 

“Wouldn’t think so,” Shaw grumbled.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Just escorting the lady,” Shaw replied.

 

“Very kind of you Ser Shaw.”

 

“That’s my Sameen,” Root smiled. Joey jumped down a ladder to the lower portion of the dock. Shaw nodded for Root to follow.

 

“It’s this first one,” Joey directed her to a boat where one man already sat between the oars.

 

Shaw glared down at Joey once Root was seated. “You take care with her as your passenger.”

 

“Of course,” He sputtered, clearly taken off guard by the venom in her tone.

 

“Shaw,” Root began.

 

“I mean it,” She spoke over her. “I see you messing around and there won’t be enough of you left for the sharks.”

 

“Are you threatening my servant, Ser Shaw?” Lord Pierce asked as he came to take his seat. His cheeks were ruddy, whether from the salty breeze or assisted by a bottle of ale, was anyone’s guess.

 

“Oh she’s such a kidder,” Root laughed in a poor attempt to cover Shaw’s breech of etiquette. The last thing they needed was for Pierce to take offence and bar Shaw from the trip. Or worse yet challenge her for a perceived insult. “That’s our Dragon Slayer. Or is it our jester? I can never quite decide.”

 

“Is that so?” Lord Pierce chuckled. “I’d have never guessed.” He smiled down at Root, “And who might you be?”

 

“Lady Ginsberg, Lord Pierce,” Joey spoke up. “I mentioned her to you earlier.”

 

“Ah yes,” He nodded. “Your face is very familiar.” He began to climb down the ladder.

 

“I get that all the time.”

 

Seemingly, dismissed, Shaw turned and stalked away. Root held back a sigh as she watched her go. She would pay for her comments later she was more than certain.

 

Carter and Reese were waiting at a slip not too far off. Ian was already seated in the boat. Reese was speaking to one of the men loading the boat next to theirs, while Carter was checking names off a list.

 

“Looks like everyone is set,” She said rolling up the paper. “Shall we?” She motioned to the boat.

 

“Can one of you pass down the oars?” Ian asked.

 

Shaw reached for them. “I got this.” A bit of physical activity would help her regain her equilibrium.

 

“No,” Reese tried to stop her. “I’ll do it.” The two of them began an impromptu game of tug with one of the oars.

 

Carter shook her head, “I am not going through this again. She grabbed one of the sailors milling about the dock to get everyone loaded, shoving him down and into the seat. “You help Ian row.” She glared at Shaw and Reese. “You two, give them those oars and then sit.”

 

Reese and Shaw looked at each other before, begrudgingly, following Carters orders. Reese took a seat on the bench behind her, while Shaw settled at her side. “Honestly, it’s like having three children,” She muttered under her breath once the pair were seated.

 

The day was just as beautiful out in the harbor as it had been on the docks. A fine mist of spray from the waves clung to Shaw’s skin and hair. She breathed deeply. The air and the waves smoothed her jagged edges for the moment.

 

The hull of _The Pride of Thornhill_ was left natural. Its wood oiled to a rich earthy shine. The furled sails gleamed a brighter white than the clouds dotting the upper reaches of the sky above them. Mounted on the bow, was the visage of a snarling dragon. The bowsprit stretched out between the dragon’s brows like a great horn, ready to strike any enemy foolish enough to issue a challenge. It held the only paint. Green and gold, it along with the banners flapping from the masts, marked the ship’s intended purpose as the new flagship of the royal navy.

 

It almost seemed wrong for such a fine vessel to be simply sitting there. Everything about it, craved motion. Far more than the gentle bobbing it was presently managing among the waves.

 

Shaw took in more detail as they drew closer. “What are those ports along the side?” She wondered aloud. “Cannon?” They seemed to be set a touch low for that purpose.

 

Reese shifted in his seat. “As far as I know Pierce didn’t place any conventional cannons on board.” His jaw tensed, “Too much of a risk keeping them on board with the supplies for his salamander.”

 

That made sense, Shaw supposed. Too many volatile elements in an enclosed space did tend to result in unwanted booms. And with Lord Pierce’s miraculous new weapons systems in play, would the ship really need to burden itself under the additional weight of conventional weapons?

 

“They look large enough to fire the orbs through,” Carter noted. “Maybe they’re set lower so they can launch the freezing ones directly at the waterline of opposing ships.”

 

“Man the yards!” A voice shouted.

 

Shaw looked up. Several of the men were standing along the horizontal beams which held the furled sails of _The Pride_. They each had a hand raised in salute. She glanced back at Reese. “I thought they were running a skeleton crew for this trip?” A good portion of the crew had to be the ones manning the long boats right now.

 

“Seems like the Captain likes to show off almost as much as Pierce.”

 

Carter groaned, “Just what we need.”

 

Due to the abundance of vessels necessary to ferry all the guests to _The Pride of Thornhill_ , only Lord Pierce’s longboat was to be raised to the deck. Shaw watched as the crew tossed down lines. Those would be secured to the yards above. Joey and the sailor manning the oars attached the lines to the front and back of the longboat. While they were thus occupied, Lord Pierce passed the oars over to the boat nearest them, to rid them of their extra weight on the trip up.

 

Shaw clenched her hands. She was struck with the mad impulse to swim over there and double-check all the knots herself.

 

“She’ll be fine,” Reese whispered.

 

“Of course,” She grumbled. Wasn’t like anyone was trying to kill the idiot in the boat with her.

 

Said idiot looked up at the men leaning over the railing and shouted, “Hoist away!” There was a creak and then the lines pulled taught and the longboat slowly started to rise from the water. Shaw’s fists clenched tighter with every squeak of the pulleys until the longboat was finally secured against the side of the ship well above their heads.

 

If they noticed, Reese and Carter had the good sense not to comment on it.

 

The rest of the longboats came up along the port side of the ship. They’d be lashed together and tied to the keel for the afternoon. A rope ladder was lowered to allow everyone access to the main deck. There was some grumbling as the group ascended. Once again Carter had to step in when a fight nearly broke out over who should have the honor of going first. And another near catastrophe when Lord Wellington’s foot slipped. But eventually, everyone made it on board.

 

Lord Pierce was standing on the forecastle. A bronze skinned man in a dark green naval uniform was standing just to his left. Shaw could see Root and Joey standing behind the pair of them. When Lord Pierce noticed them, he waved Reese, Carter and Shaw to join them as the king’s official representatives.

 

“Welcome, welcome Honored Guests!” Lord Pierce cried out, once everyone was on board and gathered on the main deck. “Welcome to _The Pride of Thornhill_.”

 

There was a smattering of applause.

 

“Our agenda for the day is to show you all the ways this ship is going to revolutionize naval warfare as we know it. To that end allow me to introduce you to my own naval expert, Captain Jack Salazar.”

 

The applause for the captain was polite, with a touch more enthusiasm than what had greeted Pierce a moment prior. “I must say I appreciated the pageantry of the salute earlier, Captain Salazar,” Lord Pierce grinned.

 

Salazar tipped his cap. “I thought you might, milord.” The crowd laughed.

 

Pierce took the jibe good-naturedly. “You know me so well.”

 

“The captain and his crew are more than happy to answer any questions you might have about the running of the ship.” He gestured toward the line of sailors standing at attention along aft end of the main deck. “I myself, of course, will escort anyone who wishes across the decks giving you my own personal insight into her construction. We’ve come up with a fantastic modification for the bilge pumps, you wouldn’t believe the rate of efficiency.”

 

The crowd seemed far less enthusiastic about the prospect than Lord Pierce. Captain Salazar cleared his throat. “Perhaps you could begin with the ships offensive capabilities and build up to the bilge pumps.”

 

Pierce slapped him on the shoulder, “You are absolutely correct. Can’t just jump to the most exciting bits first. Must ease up to them.” He gestured between the crowd and the captain. “See this is why Jack was tapped to command. He’s very wise for his young age.”

 

Captain Salazar dipped his head. “Thank you, Lord Pierce.”

 

“As it is such a glorious day out, we have a great deal of time before we will need to load the boats again to set back for home, so don’t be shy everyone. Go take a look around. Get your hands into things.”

 

“Maybe don’t get your hands into things,” Captain Salazar called out. “But do feel free to ask my men about anything that catches your interest.”

 

“Why don’t you all follow me?” Lord Pierce slid down the ladder on to the main deck. “We began construction just after the final frost of the season.”

 

They followed Lord Pierce down the ladder and joined the main group. The man seemed to revel in being everyone’s focus as he explained mundane details of the ship’s construction. He went on and on blathering about everything from the type of wax used for water proofing to the family who ran the farm where the hemp for the lines was grown.

 

He’d been speaking for over half an hour before he stopped to take a breath. “And that’s why we brought in the wood for the decking from that particular forest.”

 

“Excuse me, Lord Pierce,” Talibah interrupted. She was wearing another long sleeved gown today. Hopefully, she wouldn’t feel compelled to start another story time. “But perhaps the Captain could explain the vessel’s offensive capabilities, that he mentioned earlier?”

 

“Ah but you are a blood thirsty one, Madam,” Pierce chuckled. “But if that is what everyone wishes to hear.” There were many murmurs of assent from the crowd. “Captain, if you will?”

 

There were four ballistae lining either side of the main deck. Shaw practically sprained something holding back her eye rolls when people kept asking questions about the same details Pierce had gone over the afternoon before. What was with nobles and their poor listening?

 

“She’s a bit small for a warship.”

 

“Ah but she’s quick and when she hits, she hits harder than any other you’ve seen.”

 

“Remind you of anyone?” Carter whispered to Reese. Shaw turned her head to glare at the both of them.

 

“The armaments are all secured below deck of course.”

 

“Ah yes,” Lord Pierce nodded, “Let us go below deck for a moment. You can catch a glimpse of the vault. Oh! You simply must see the officer’s quarters! They’re the best in the fleet.”

 

The crowd turned their attention towards the rear of the ship, as Pierce loudly continued to boast about the officer’s accommodations. Shaw snorted. Like any of these nobles actually cared.  

 

Though why was it that no one was whispering in her ear about sneaking off and trying out one of the bunks?

 

Shaw glanced around. Root wasn’t nearby. She frowned. No one had gone ahead of them into the lower decks. Shaw would have noticed. Where could Root have gone off to? It was a ship. Wasn’t like there were that many places for her to wander off.

 

As the crowd moved to the next point of interest, Shaw went to retrace her steps. Oddly enough, for once Root was right where she left her. “Why are you still up there?”

 

“No reason,” Root replied from her perch on the forecastle. “You go on. Sounds like they’re going to the map room next. I’m quite enjoying myself up here.”

 

“Right,” Shaw drawled. She went over to the ladder and began to climb.

 

“Honestly, Sam…”

 

“Yes, let’s try a little honesty,” She replied. “Starting with what’s keeping you up here.”

 

“It’s an excellent vantage point.”

 

“So’s the rigging. Don’t see you crawling around up there.”

 

“Well, we’re working right now, Sweetie, but if that’s an offer to get tangled up in the lines with you at a later date…”

 

“Root.” Shaw knew when a come on was meant to move her off task.

 

“Anywhere, any time.”

 

“Cut the crap.”

 

She sighed, “I might have taken a tiny tumble before you came on board.”

 

Shaw started running her hands over her body to check for any injuries. “Why didn’t anyone say anything?” Shaw couldn’t find any wounds, but now that she was paying attention Root was looking a bit paler than normal. “Did you hit your head?” She made a grab for the stupid hat.

 

“No,” Root replied leaning away. “Nothing like that. I’m simply not accustomed to the ground moving beneath me.”

 

Shaw reached out and gently took her elbow. “I’m fine,” Root assured her. She gestured to her right ear. “I’ve got my balance issues figured out for the most part but…”

 

“You forgot we were going to be using our sea legs today?” She led them around the foremast to the very front of the railing along the forecastle in an attempt to offer a measure of privacy. “Keep your eyes on the horizon. It’ll help.”

 

“I don’t know why the deck is rocking so,” Root complained. “There’s barely any waves.”

 

“Your sense of balance is much different now. It doesn’t take much to throw it off.”

 

Root, still a bit wobbly, clung to the rail. “There’s no need to gloat, just because we’ve stumbled on something you’re better at than me.”

 

“Does this look like my gloating face?”

 

“Well, I don’t rightly know, Sweetie.” Her nose scrunched up as she squinted at Shaw. “You’re hard to discern sometimes.”

 

Shaw let out a little huff. “You were hurt.”

 

“What?”

 

“You were hurt and you’re still recovering.” Now Shaw’s eyes were trained on the horizon. “That’s never something I’d gloat about.”

 

Root felt as if she had been struck. “I didn’t mean…”

 

“I’m going to go and check in with Carter.” Shaw muttered as she turned away.

 

“Sameen,” Root called after her.

 

She stopped though she didn’t look back. “Just mind your feet.” She leapt down on to the main deck before Root could reply.

 

Shaw stomped angrily through the crowd. Root’s breath caught as she observed her violently shoulder Joey from her path. “Oh Sameen,” Root sighed reaching up to rub her temples.

 

Joey scowled after Shaw for a moment before continuing his way towards Root. Soon he was climbing on to the forecastle. “Sorry about that,” She said in lieu of greeting. “She’s not having the best day.” Mostly my fault, she added mentally but didn’t say.

 

Joey leaned against the railing as if nothing were amiss. “So she seems delightful.”

 

Root’s hackles began to rise. Her mood already poor and his tone skirted awfully close to disparaging her lady. “She is actually.”

 

“I suppose if you like scowling and threats.”

 

“I adore them,” Root drawled. “What is it you want, Joey?” She didn’t have the energy for pretense. If the conversation remained on its current course she’d most likely stab him besides.

 

“I saw the pair of you at the tavern last night.”

 

Ah, that. “Did you try the steak? Sameen simply adores the steak there.”

 

“Funny that the pair of you were there with the King’s Spymaster.”

 

“We frequent that tavern. As I said Sameen has a particular affinity for the meat preparations. Our other friends join us from time to time. No conspiracy theories required.”

 

“Why do I feel like you would have turned up no matter where Lord Pierce decided to spend the evening?”

 

“What’s actually odd is why your lord would pick that of all places to spend second night. There are far more well-known taverns in the capitol.”

 

Joey wasn’t deterred however, “You forget; I know what you look like when you’re working an angle.”

 

“While I am certain it comes in handy in your new line of work, this new found paranoia of yours is a touch unbecoming.”

 

“You and the Dragon Slayer are paying quite a bit of attention to Lord Pierce.”

 

Root’s eyes easily found Lord Pierce gesticulating wildly as he explained something to the crowd. “Isn’t that the point of the man constantly making himself the center of attention?”

 

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You used to be better at deflection.”

 

“You used to be less nosey,” She countered.

 

Joey chuckled, “You used to be a better liar as well.”

 

Root finally smiled. Joey had always been a nosey bastard. He had been a thief after all. “This ship is of a great deal of importance to Thornhill.” She watched the green and gold banner atop the main mast flap in the breeze. “Therefore, your lord is of great importance.”

 

“It’s my job to look out for him.” Joey clenched his jaw. “More than that he’s my friend. If there’s something you’re not telling me…” He trailed off.

 

“Trust me when I say our interests align in this case.”

 

“But there is something you’re leaving out.”

 

“You were always a clever one.”

 

Meanwhile, Shaw was cursing her apparent lack of cleverness. “Temper, temper,” Reese teased, having witnessed her altercation with Joey. “It’s unbecoming.”

 

“What? Are you going to tell me to be nice to little Joey again?”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” He replied. “Especially if you have a good reason for all that aggression. You do have a good reason right?”

 

“John,” Carter spoke up before Shaw could reply. “Go see if you can grab something for Shaw from the galley.”

 

“I don’t think this is that sort of trip, Joss.”

 

“Go to the galley.”

 

Once he complied with her order, Carter gently took Shaw by the arm and led her to a much less occupied portion of the deck. “Now, you’ve got two options before John returns. Option one you can make up some reason for why you look like you want to flay Durbin alive every time he’s within three paces of you. I’ll listen and then shove your head into the nearest body of water for lying to me. Or two you can tell me the truth to start and we can decide how to deal with it. Head shoving may or may not be on the table.”

 

“He’s suspicious.”

 

“You’re about to get wet.”

 

Shaw’s lips tipped up in a smirk that did not reach her eyes. “I mean I’m spoken for, but if you’re offering, Jocelyn.”

 

Carter’s eyes narrowed until they were practically slits. “I’m sure I can find a chamber pot for said dunking.”

 

Someone who didn’t know Shaw might have missed the slightest sag in her shoulders. Unfortunately for her, Carter had grown to know her quite well. “Let someone help you for once, you stubborn fool.”

 

“He’s always hanging off of her every word.”

 

“I suppose you are used to being the center of Root’s attention,” Carter mused. Though she was a bit surprised that Shaw would fall prey to petty jealousy. Anyone with eyes could see Root was completely taken with the woman.

 

“It’s not like she’s discouraging it,” She grumbled.

 

“You don’t honestly think Root is going to go running off with Durban?”

 

“Of course not,” Shaw replied. “You and I both know she’ll flirt for a job, but she doesn’t actually enjoy being with men like that.”

 

“Alright, Shaw,” Carter sighed. “You’re going to have to help me here. I really do want to help, but I’m at a loss.”

 

“So am I.” Being out here on the water. Being around this ship. It was making her think of her father and the sort of person he would have wanted her to be. The type of man that he was.

 

“What?”

 

“I don’t know how to say things.” Shaw rubbed her neck in an attempt to work some of the tension in her muscles away. “I’m not normal.”

 

“Understatement,” Carter chuckled, in an attempt to break a bit of the tension. When Shaw didn’t respond in kind she frowned, “You’re serious?”

 

“I don’t react to things like other people do. Never have.”

 

“So?” Sure Shaw was a bit of a challenge but she was an honorable woman. A fine ally. A better warrior. And Carter counted her among her dearest friends.

 

“What if she needs that?” Her jaw clenched, “Needs something more normal.”

 

“And what? You think Durban’s mere presence is going to cause her to realize something is lacking with you?”

 

Shaw shrugged. Why wouldn’t it? There was something wrong with her.

 

“That woman doesn’t think there is a single thing wrong with you. Not the way you react to things. Not that terrible attitude of yours. Not the way you treat her. Not even the sight of you when you eat.” Frankly, that last one would have killed the romance before it started for Carter. If that didn’t say Root was in it for life, she didn’t know what would.

 

“But…”

 

“No.” She laid a careful hand on Shaw’s arm. “Do you ever doubt yourself like this in a fight?”

 

“I’m good at fighting.”

 

“And how did you get that way?”

 

“You’re not honestly going to tell me that all I need is practice.”

 

“Maybe not. But what could trying it hurt?”

 

Her pride. Her ego. She looked across the deck to where Root was talking to Joey. Her throat felt dry. Some other things could hurt worse though.

 

“Fine,” She groaned. There was no way this was going to end well, but Root deserved someone who would at least try.

 

“Always happy to slap some sense into to you, Shaw.”

 

“Yeah, whatever.”

 

“One of these days you’re going to admit that you’re glad you have all of us around to annoy you into doing the right thing.”

 

“I can do the right thing all on my own.” Had been for years before she fell in with this bunch of fools. But then again she never considered this sort of stuff back then either. “Most of the time.”

 

“And that’s why you need us,” Carter smiled. “Mainly me. John is almost as useless as you are when feelings come in to play. Zoe would just offer to get you drunk.”

 

“We’re not getting drinks now?”

 

“Later, if I have to speak with Yorgov again, I’m definitely going to need one.” She smirked, “Since I forced you into girl talk, I’ll buy the first round.”

 

“Did we just have a moment?” Shaw scowled. “Are you going to try to hug me?”

 

“God no.”

 

“Okay, just checking.”

 

While they had been working through Shaw’s particular bout of madness, the tour appeared to have tapered off. Bunches of nobles were milling about the deck. Some were inspecting the ballistae. Others were speaking with various members of the crew. From the muffled sound of their voices many were still roaming the ship’s hold.

 

“Ser Shaw!” She looked up to see Lord Pierce smiling down at her from the deck above. “Dragon Slayer, come see the view.” Shaw rolled her eyes at Carter but began to make her way to the stairs to the quarterdeck.

 

Captain Salazar stepped into her path. “My apologies, but this area is off limits.”

 

“It’s fine Captain,” Pierce called down. “I invited her up.”

 

Salazar looked surprised that he was on the quarterdeck. “You shouldn’t be up there either, your lordship. Technically, you are not a member of the crew.”

 

“Relax. It’s not as if Ser Shaw and I are going to make off with the boat.”

 

“Ship milord,” Captain Salazar corrected. From his tone it appeared it was not the first time he had had such a conversation with Lord Pierce. “The correct term is ship.”

 

“I brought her into the world, so I’ll call her a boat if I wish.”

 

Captain Salazar shook his head. “Of course milord.” He stepped to the side and waved Shaw forward, “Do try and get him not to dally up there, your grace?”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. Since when did she become this idiot’s keeper? Still she gave the man a slight nod as she ascended the stairs. Pierce really did not need to be fooling around up here. Especially as he had more than likely been drinking today.

 

Lord Pierce smiled at her when she came to stand beside him at the ship’s wheel. He spread his arms wide. “So what do you think?”

 

“I hate to admit it.” She really hated to. “But you’ve built quite a ship.” She ran her hand along the polished surface of the wheel. “She’s a beauty.”

 

“Have you done much sailing?”

 

“When I was a girl.” Shaw left it at that.

 

For once, the bumbling lord seemed to pick up on a social que as he didn’t ask for any further explanation. “I believe she shall be my crowning achievement.”

 

“A man could do worse.”

 

“It’s no dragon slain,” He smiled. “But I could live with doing this much to keep my kingdom safe.”

 

Now that wasn’t at all the sort of thing Shaw expected to hear from this man. “Most people don’t do half as much.”

 

“And then there are others, like yourself, who give so much more,” He countered. “Though I suppose there are only so many dragons.”

 

“To be fair the dragon slaying wasn’t anything I’d planned for my life either.”

 

“And yet you held fast. Got the job done.” He stepped away from the wheel.

 

“It was that or be eaten.”

 

“Ah but you could have run when you saw the dragon. Could have turned down the King’s summons to begin with. Not everyone is able to rise to the occasion as aptly as you did.”

 

He turned to look out across the water. “Some of us do nothing but fall.”

 

“Uh, are you alright?”

 

He shook his head. “Oh fine.” He was smiling again when he looked back at her, but the expression didn’t match his eyes. “Did you learn much about rigging when you were a girl? We’ve tried something wholly original with the lines here.” He pointed up towards the sails.

 

Shaw’s eyes narrowed. Was that a hawk?

 

Across the deck, Root had a similar thought. Was that the hawk from earlier perched on the topsail? She was about to point the bird out to Joey when a loud voice booming in her head practically sent her to her knees. Joey was barely able to catch her as she stumbled towards the deck for the second time that day.

 

“Say it slower,” She ground out through her clenched teeth.

 

Joey frowned in confusion, “But I didn’t say anything?”

 

“Not you,” She hissed through the pain. It did not occur often, but there had been times of emergency when She had overwhelmed Root’s senses in her haste to impart a warning.

 

It seemed their fine day on the water was about to take a turn.

 

“The mast! Lord Pierce!” Root gasped when the message became clear. She searched the deck finding the man in question standing on the quarterdeck, on the opposite side of the ship from where they stood. She darted towards the starboard ladder. Adrenaline-fueled panic seemed to be the best medicine for her balance issues.

 

“Wait!” Joey yelped. “What’s going on?” Root didn’t reply. She slid down, feet hardly touching the rungs. She hip checked Baron Yorgov from her path without breaking her stride. “Wait!” Root ignored Joey’s calls and kept on forcing her way forward. With so many people packed in along the deck, however, she wasn’t making much headway.

 

Movement in the crowd below caught Shaw’s eye. Root was shoving bodies out of her way as she moved across the main deck toward their position. The look on her face wasn’t a sign of anything good. Shaw scanned the area around them. Pierce was still jabbering away about the hemp blend used for the rigging. She held up her hand, “Shut up!”

 

“What?”

 

“Shhh.”

 

The wind was picking up. The yard hanging on the upper section of the mizzenmast wobbled. Her eyes widened. That wasn’t supposed to move like that. There was a loud crack. Shaw took two steps forward and shoved Lord Pierce as hard as she could.

 

He hit the deck with a thwack. Lord Pierce slid across the polished planks on his side. He’d be bruised but no worse for wear in the long run. That mission accomplished, Shaw braced herself for impact.


	8. The Devil (or Demon) Is In The Details

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did this situation manage to get more complicated?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So an invisible, non-refundable, totally calorie-free cookie goes to commenter Radminran for correctly asserting that a trip down memory lane is incoming after Shaw's little dip from last chapter.   
> Are you the machine? Did you find my notes? (I'm slightly worried I'm becoming too predictable)  
> Does my best impression of a Shaw glare...   
> Never fear! I've still got a few tricks up my sleeves! (At least I hope that's the case)

 

Sameen stared up at the shadows from the fire as they danced across the ceiling of her bedroom. She was fighting off the pull of sleep. She had already been up well past her usual bedtime tonight. The novelty of having a guest in her home had pushed her normal energy to new heights. But now as her eyes drooped, she could barely focus on her papa’s voice as it floated through the open doorway.

 

“I can’t believe you brought her a sword. She’s only four.”

 

“Gifts are a godmother’s prerogative,” Their guest replied. She had a nice voice, even if she did talk funny. “You may relax, it’s blunted.”

 

“It’s still a sword.” Sameen clutched it to her chest. It was the best gift she had ever received. The only thing better would be a puppy. She sent an errant glance to Tom, who was curled in a ball at her feet. He was a good cat but he was lazy. A puppy and Tom would be much better.

 

“It is the proper training weight for a child,” The woman assured. “She must begin learning sometime.”

 

“I had hoped she’d never have to.”

 

“That is a fine hope,” She replied. “It is best to prepare for every eventuality however.”

 

“Have you seen…”

 

“That is not my gift.”

 

“Then why?”

 

“Extraordinary individuals are often tested by fire,” She replied. “How can Little Sameen be anything other than extraordinary? Consider her lineage.”

 

“Her mother was phenomenal.” Papa’s voice was warm. It always was when he talked about Sameen’s mama.

 

“I am sorry I wasn’t here when she passed.”

 

“You were needed elsewhere.”

 

“I was needed here.”

 

“It was her time.”

 

“But…”

 

“Are you really going to argue with me in my own house?”

 

“Only if you insist on being obstinate.” There was a soft clank as a cup was set on the table. “Is this how you are with your crew? Constantly argumentative?”

 

“They know better than to argue with their captain.”

 

Their guest laughed, “They surely didn’t learn that by your example.”

 

Sameen blinked. The shadows on the ceiling were much longer than a moment ago. The fire was getting low. She frowned, had she fallen asleep?

 

A chair scraped against the floor. “I should allow you to retire for the evening.”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“You’ve yawned twice during our conversation.”

 

“No, really. It’s been so long since we’ve been able to sit down like this.”

 

“I shall return in the morning.”

 

“You will?”

 

“Naturally,” The woman answered. “Sameen requires proper instruction in the use of her new sword.”

 

“I can teach my daughter to use a sword.”

 

“Of course you can,” She chuckled. “I however aim to teach her how to actually win a fight with one.”

 

Papa laughed, “I’m beginning to question the wisdom of inviting you to visit.”

 

“Oh I agree, that was a rather poor decision on your part.” There were footsteps as Papa saw their guest out.

 

Sameen couldn’t believe it. Not only was she going to be able to keep her gift but Papa was going to let her learn to fight. She looked down at the sword in its scabbard. An image of a snarling demon looked back up at her.

 

Shaw groaned as she opened her eyes. She blinked a couple of times, vision fuzzy around the edges.  As the world regained its focus, she realized the water stain on the ceiling above where she lay was quite familiar. This was her old room above the smithy. She had told Cole countless times to use it for storage or something, but he and Veronica had insisted that Shaw would always have her place there. For once she was grateful for the two of them being such saps.

 

“There’s my beautiful girl.”

 

She turned her head to the right. “Root.” Shaw’s voice was like gravel. Her right temple was throbbing. She reached up and ran her fingers over the bandage wrapped around her head. “What happened?”

 

“Someone decided Lord Pierce should go for a swim. You accepted the invitation on his behalf.”

 

“Oh,” Shaw blinked. “Right.” She’d hit her head on the railing as she went over the side. Though she was fortunate that the mast hadn’t crushed her outright when it hit her. She brushed the edge of the bandage again.

 

Root leaned forward in her seat. That had been brought in specifically for her. Shaw never kept a chair in the room. It was one from the kitchen if Shaw recalled correctly. There was a glass of water and half a roll of bandages on the small table that had always been next to the bed. “How’s the head?”

 

Felt like Samaritan sat on it. Twice. She settled for, “Throbbing.”

 

“Oh,” Root drawled, a little grin settled on her face. “Typically, I prefer you use that term in regards to areas slightly lower on the body.” Shaw groaned. The grin slipped from Root’s face. “Are you in pain? I can send Cole for a tonic.” She began to stand.

 

Shaw reached out for her arm. “I’m fine.” She scowled and then corrected herself, “Fine-ish.” Throbbing might be too slight a descriptor, but she’d deal with it. “That was just a terrible come on, even for you.”

 

“Perhaps, I’m a bit off my game.”

 

“Perhaps,” Shaw snorted.

 

“Entirely your fault.”

 

“It always is.” She scooted around until she could sit up a bit. Root shoved a few of the pillows behind her. She must really have been worried because despite her earlier poor attempt at flirting, she did not try and cop a feel while helping.

 

“You’ve been out for several hours. Didn’t even twitch the entire trip across the harbor.” Root didn’t say it, but Shaw knew that had to have been frightening to the other woman. “Of course once I got you all alone and into a bed you began to perk right up.”

 

Shaw blinked at the window. The sky was all pinks and purples. “How did I?”

 

“Talibah actually jumped in after you. She’s quite the swimmer.”

 

Shaw had an image of hands dragging her up. The sunlight reflecting off of the waves. The sting of her lungs and throat from inhaled sea water. “Someone throw a line!”

 

Coughing. Choking. A splash. “Keep your eyes open.”

 

Blink. Talibah had an arm around her waist, the other was wrapped around a rope. The sleeve of her gown had slipped down under the weight of the sodden fabric. Shaw could see the skin of her arm.

 

And the brand upon it.

 

“You frightened me.” Shaw shook her head, brought back to the present. Root was looking at her with wide, watery eyes. “I don’t like when you do that.”

 

“I didn’t enjoy it much either.” Her ribs were complaining almost as much as her head.

 

“I mean it, Sameen. When you went over the side,” She let out a shuddering breath. “And then when we brought you back up you were so still. I thought...”

 

“Hey,” Shaw waited until she was sure she had Root’s undivided attention. “I’m okay. This,” She reached up to the bandage again, “Is a minor thing. You know I’ve got the thickest skull in the five kingdoms.”

 

Root smiled softly at that. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind Shaw’s right ear. She then trailed her fingers along the curve of her jaw. “My girl’s a marvel.”

 

“Damn right.” She reached for the glass of water. Root practically fell over herself to get it for her. The cool liquid did wonders for Shaw’s aching throat. She drained the glass before handing it back for Root to put away. “Pierce?”

 

“He’s fine. A few bumps and bruises. Last I saw him, he was going on and on about how once again you saved his life.” Root smiled, “I do believe you’ve charmed your way to another admirer.”

 

“Great,” Shaw groaned. “Just what I need.”

 

“You?” Root snorted. “I’ve solved our mystery already, because if he’s too physical with his gushing appreciation, I’m going to be the one to murder him.”

 

“I’ll get Bear to be my bodyguard.” Even if the image of Root’s delicate wrists clamped in irons was a tempting one.

 

“Uncle Harry already has his ship, technically he doesn’t really need him anymore.”

 

“You could have told me that earlier. I wouldn’t have bothered with the swim.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. “I was kidding, Root.”

 

“I know,” She sighed. “That’s not why I’m apologizing.”

 

O-kay. “Did you drop the mast on me?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then shut up.” There was nothing for Root to be sorry about. Pierce was alive. Shaw would be fine. The best thing would be to let the whole afternoon go.

 

But of course Root wasn’t going to. “I’m sorry that we argued before.”

 

“Was that an argument?” No one had yelled, cursed, or bled. There was no makeup sex afterwards. That meant it hardly qualified in Shaw’s opinion.

 

“You stomped away like it was.”

 

Shaw took a deep breath, needing a second to decide on how she wanted to respond to that. The easiest thing would be to make a smart ass remark and get back to the light banter they had been trading a few moments ago. But she could hear Carter’s voice in her head.

 

 _Try_.

 

“I just don’t know how to deal with you sometimes.”

 

Root bowed her head. “I know I can be stubborn.”

 

“It’s not that.” Shaw pulled at a loose thread in the quilt covering her. Veronica must have added it to the bed. It hadn’t been among Shaw’s meagre possessions when she occupied this bed on a regular basis. “You affect me. I don’t always know what to do with that. Still.” Shaw looked down, “It’s sort of gotten worse actually.”

 

“Oh.” Root looked a bit stunned.

 

Shaw nodded. “You mix everything up in my head. I don’t know how, or even if I should tell you about it when it’s happening.” She swallowed, “It pisses me off.” She quickly added, “That I can’t figure it out.” Shaw didn’t want Root to think that she was mad at her. It was her inability to handle the situation that made her angry. Not her.

 

“I don’t think you have to.” Root raked her teeth over her bottom lip, “Unless you think it’s a bad thing.” She twirled her finger in the air, “The mixing…”

 

“No. It’s annoying as hell at times but I wouldn’t say it’s a bad thing.”

 

“You know,” She slyly grinned. “Almost sounds like you’re talking about me.”

 

“I kind of was.” Shaw shook her head and leaned back against the pillows. All this talking was more exhausting than the head injury. She closed her eyes and let out a breath, “You’re the only person who has ever made me like this.”

 

“It’s a really good thing that you’re fine-ish now.”

 

Shaw’s brows drew together. “Uh…”

 

“Because when you say such sweet things, I am simply compelled to have you.”

 

When Shaw opened her eyes Root was practically on top of her. “How did?” She hadn’t even felt the bed dip.

 

“Shhh.” Root drew her lips up Shaw’s throat to bite at the soft skin just under her jaw. “This is the part where we have makeup sex.”

 

“It wasn’t an argument.”

 

Root pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “Close enough for me to want a tumble.” And who was Shaw to argue that kind of logic?

 

Not an idiot for starters.

 

She hooked an arm around Root’s neck and pulled her back down into an intense kiss. Root’s left hand fisted in the quilt. She began tugging it down even as she continued to nip and bite at Shaw’s lips. For her part Shaw kissed her back with equal fervor. She tangled the fingers of her left hand in the silken fall of Root’s hair, while tugging her body closer with her right.

 

Root was completely willing to follow Shaw’s unspoken command. Once she had the quilt moved down so that it pooled about Shaw’s waist, she leaned down to bring their bodies into fuller contact. Shaw couldn’t help a small pained exhale at Root’s slight weight bearing down on her bruised ribs.

 

“Sorry,” Root breathed, as she began to pull away.

 

“Stop apologizing,” Shaw growled. “Besides, I can work with it.”

 

“Your ability to adapt is only one of the many things I adore about you.”

 

“Less talking, more moaning.”

 

Root let out a throaty chuckle, “I also love your mmmmpft…” It was difficult to finish her thought with Shaw’s tongue in her mouth. She mentally shrugged. She loved that about her too.

 

Shaw pulled her lips away with a little popping sound. “You’ve got better things to do with that mouth.”

 

Root grinned and then began sliding down her body. She stopped for a few minutes to nibble at a collar bone. Then she took a slight detour to admire the loveliest breasts in the kingdom. “Get on with it,” Shaw groaned.

 

A knock at the door interrupted their lustful haze. Zoe’s slightly muffled voice followed right after. “If you two aren’t decent, I’m coming in and I’m armed with a bucket of water.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. “We’re never decent,” Root shouted back for the both of them. She leaned down and swiped at Shaw’s abs with her tongue. “Let me finish what I started tonight?”

 

Shaw tugged at the baby fine hairs at the back of her neck. “You better.”

 

“Carter has a bucket of water too!”

 

“Fine,” Root huffed. “Give us a moment.” She rolled to Shaw’s side and tried to get her breathing under control.

 

“You have five minutes or we’re coming in buckets first.” And wasn’t that charitable of them?

 

Shaw pointed to an oak chest at the foot of the bed. “I think I may still have some clothes in that.”

 

“Pity,” Root teased.

 

“Root.”

 

“What?” She shrugged. “You know I prefer you this way.”

 

“And if we didn’t have a mission to get on with right away, that would be fine.”

 

Root leaned back over her. “The only thing I need to get on right away is lying here in this bed.” Despite her flirty words, Root rolled off of Shaw and gathered a tunic and some breeches from the chest. She helped Shaw to slip them on before going to open the door.

 

“Why was I naked anyway?” Not that Shaw was complaining.

 

“Sweetie, I had to monitor you for hypothermia.”

 

“It’s summer, Root.”

 

She laughed as she pulled the door open. True to her word, both Zoe and Carter were holding buckets. They sat them next to the doorway before stepping into the room. Root came back and sat down on the bed next to Shaw.

 

“Good to see you’re awake,” Carter said as she went to stand at the foot of the bed. “Let’s never do that again.”

 

“Agreed,” Shaw replied.

 

Zoe plopped down on Root’s empty chair. “See this is exactly why I don’t like boats.”

 

Shaw smirked, “I thought that was the giant turtles.”

 

“How do you know about that?” She hissed. “John’s a dead man,” She muttered a moment later, answering her own question.

 

“Giant turtles?” Carter blinked at her.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Zoe snapped. She threw up her hands. “Don’t ask.”

 

Cole appeared in the doorway before anyone could ignore that request. “Shaw, you’re awake,” He smiled.

 

“Seems so,” She nodded to him.

 

He walked to the foot of the bed and flopped down. Shaw supposed he was allowed to since this was his place. “Always trying to be the center of attention,” He teased. “Falling to near death in a body of water is my move.”

 

Root stiffened at the word death. Shaw glared at Cole, “No one was near death.”

 

“But?”

 

“Shut it.”

 

Carter cleared her throat, “They brought _The Pride of Thornhill_ in to dock. John is escorting King Harold, Gen, and Lord Pierce back to the castle.”

 

“Gen alright?” Hearing that she had gone overboard had to worry the girl.

 

Root swallowed, “We didn’t exactly tell her what happened.”

 

“Oh she’s going to kill you,” Shaw chuckled, “All of you.”

 

“You’re fine, so she’ll be fine.”

 

“Keep telling yourself that.” Gen was going to bring her own version of hell down around all of their heads.

 

“We can worry about Gen’s temper later,” Root replied as if reading her thoughts. “We need to figure out what happened today.”

 

Carter nodded. She had already begun working on that. “I had some of our men bring Captain Salazar up to the palace for a little chat.”

 

“The rest of the crew?” Shaw asked.

 

“Sequestered on board.” Carter had stationed a squad of her most trusted men on the docks. Several of Zoe’s little birds had talked, conned or flat out snuck their way on board the vessels surrounding it. No one was getting off that ship without them knowing about it.

 

“So what do we know?”

 

Root spoke up, “The mast didn’t fall on its own.”

 

Carter agreed, “We examined it while you were playing nursemaid. It definitely had help. There were tool marks on the wood.”

 

“And some type of weird residue,” Zoe added.

 

“Oh?” Root perked up.

 

“Yeah,” Carter pulled a bundle of cloth from her belt. “We scraped some of it up for you to take a look at.”

 

Root bounced at the prospect. “Weirdo,” Shaw scoffed under her breath. She ignored her as she carefully untied the bundle. There was a lump of dark brown material about the size of a thumb inside.

 

“I’m not even going to mention what that looks like.”

 

Root, undeterred by its looks, reached down and rubbed a bit of the substance between her fingers. “This is wax.”

 

“There’s no way wax held that mast in place long enough for the entire party to board the ship.” In fact, it would have had to have held hours longer than that, seeing as none of the crew had reported anything amiss.

 

“It’s mixed with something.” Root sniffed her fingers. “That’s odd.”

 

“Story of my life,” Shaw deadpanned.

 

“It smells like pine sap and peat ash.” She wiped her fingers off on her pants.

 

“So we’re looking for a burning tree?”

 

Root canted her head, “Cute.” She retied the bundle. “I’ll see if I can break this down further in my workshop at the palace.”

 

“Please don’t blow anything up this time.” Carter moved to stand near the head of the bed so she could look Root in the eye. “We’ve enough on our plates.”

 

“You want results; sometimes results explode.”

 

Zoe cut in before the pair could start arguing. “Let’s look at this another way, who had access to the ship?”

 

“The crew have been the only ones on board since they left the shipyard in Fairisle,” Root replied.

 

“Wait, not Whiteshore?” Carter asked.

 

“This project was of the utmost secrecy,” Root explained. “Lord Pierce opted not to follow normal channels with any part of its construction. Including the shipyard.”

 

“That include the shipwrights?”

 

“You’re on to something.” Zoe poked Carter in the side. “That’s your working out a puzzle face.”

 

“Maybe,” She smirked.

 

“Are you going to spill it or what?” Shaw scowled.

 

“I need to ask the captain a few questions first.” She smiled at Shaw. “If you’re feeling up to it, you can even come watch.”

 

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

 

“No time like the present then,” Zoe began to stand up.

 

Root started to slide from the bed as well, “You know if you really want him to talk…”

 

“No,” Carter cut her off. “Whatever you’re about to suggest, just keep it to yourself for now.”

 

“You never let me have any fun.”

 

“I let you blow up that bridge that time.”

 

Root grinned, “That was fun.”

 

“Wait,” Shaw called out.

 

Root turned to frown at her. “Are you alright? Is it your head?”

 

“I’m fine,” Shaw replied. “Just, there’s something else,” Shaw swallowed. “Talibah has a brand.”

 

“She saved your life,” Cole replied. “Is it really polite to judge her for a little body art?”

 

Shaw glared at him. “She has The Demon’s mark on her arm.”

 

Cole burst into nervous laughter. “You’re joking.” When Shaw continued to glare he swallowed. “Forgot who I was speaking to for a minute.”

 

“Mmm hmm.”

 

“Are you sure, no joking?”

 

“Hey,” Zoe snapped her fingers to gain their attention. “Do the two of you want to fill in the rest of us?”

 

“She’s a pirate. A highly connected one,” Root answered for them. She was staring up at the ceiling. It was obvious that a certain someone had already started filling her in.

 

“Wait,” Carter held up a hand. “We had a pirate running around and you decided to keep it to yourself?”

 

“I didn’t know,” Root replied as she sat down next to Shaw again. “She didn’t either, until Sameen mentioned it.”

 

Cole, not as familiar with the limits of Root’s particular insight as the others, frowned. “How is that possible?”

 

“The answers to that question grow more and more disturbing the longer I ponder them.”

 

“One thing at a time,” Shaw interrupted. “The brand marks Talibah as one of The Demon’s crew. That’s a level of bad we weren’t exactly counting on.”

 

“Hold on,” Zoe interrupted, “How do you know so much about this?”

 

“Besides tales of The Demon being particularly popular in a few, choice dockside establishments?” Shaw asked. “I’ve seen it before.”

 

“Didn’t think the guild worked with pirates.”

 

“They don’t,” Shaw sighed, “I saw it before.”

 

When Zoe opened her mouth to ask another question, Root cut her off. “I think we all have come to know Sameen well enough to know she wouldn’t mention the brand unless she was absolutely certain of what she saw and what it meant.”

 

The others murmured their agreement. Shaw squeezed Root’s hip, earning a small smile. “This Demon of yours,” Carter began, “Should that name be taken literally?”

 

“Not as far as I know.” Shaw shrugged turning her attention away from Root. “But as far as I knew, the Demon was an old wives’ tale.”

 

Carter started to pace, “But the brand means that whatever he is, Talibah is working for him?”

 

“Are we to assume the two are connected?” Zoe asked. “That some notorious pirate wants to kill Lord Pierce?”

 

“Pirates, they’re just like us,” Cole chuckled, it was the perfect way to break through the rising tension in the room. “What?” He shrugged, “I really don’t like that guy.”

 

“He’s an acquired taste,” Carter agreed with a small smile.

 

“You know,” Zoe drawled, “Pirate activity has increased along the eastern coast lately.”

 

Carter cocked an eyebrow at that. “Why am I just now hearing about this?”

 

“Because they haven’t been attacking our ships,” Zoe replied. “They’ve been giving Decima fits though from what my sources tell me.”

 

“All under this Demon’s instruction?”

 

“The stories say that they all ultimately answer to him,” Shaw supplied. “Harold’s king here.” She pointed out the window to where the sun kissed the sea on the horizon. “The Demon is the king out there.”

 

“And now one of his people is here snooping around?”

 

Shaw shrugged again, “Seems like.”

 

“If they’re only attacking Decima, then why go after Pierce?” Cole asked. “I mean other than his personality of course.”

 

“Our erstwhile Lord is a great many things, but never has anyone accused him of being a Decima sympathizer.” Lord Pierce’s loyalty to Thornhill had never been in question. Not even a whisper in that regard. “Perhaps he somehow insulted him?” Root mused. “That’s really not hard to fathom.”

 

“Or maybe Talibah’s presence here is unrelated to our threat, and this Demon really is trying to broker a deal to update his fleet.” Carter pursed her lips. “Can’t say I’m all for letting that deal go through.”

 

“What’s our next step then?” Zoe asked. “A public arrest in the middle of the festival could be messy.”

 

“Arrest who for what exactly?”

 

“Uh Talibah, piracy?”

 

“Which we can’t prove.” Carter crossed her arms over her chest. “She just saved Shaw’s life besides. The nobles were already falling over themselves to buy her congratulatory drinks when we docked.”

 

“What about the brand?” Cole wondered. “Isn’t that proof enough?”

 

“I can’t exactly go to the Council of Lords and tell them that we’re now making arrests based off of fairy stories, brand or no brand.”

 

“She’s here for a reason.” Shaw shook her head, “I highly doubt it’s only to pick up a few design ideas.”

 

Carter sighed. “But Talibah hasn’t done anything illegal here. She’s a guest of Lord Pierce, arresting her on the mere suspicion of piracy will not be well received.” She turned to glance at Root. “Unless you have anything to add?”

 

“She’s being unusually quiet on the subject, I’m afraid.”

 

“We’ll have to stick to keeping an eye on her for now.” From her tone Carter enjoyed that idea almost as much as having a suspected pirate showing up at their party in the first place.

 

“And in the mean time we do have a suspect to interrogate.” Root tilted her head to the side, “Are you sure I can’t help with that?”

 

“Very.”

 

“Your loss.”

 

“Well then,” Cole clapped his hands together as he stood up. “Anyone in the mood for a pre-interrogation snack?”

 

Shaw held up her hand. When everyone looked at her she scowled, “Oh like you didn’t know that was going to be my answer?”


	9. Coincidence? We think not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this is a bit late. Looks like I may end up with a Wednesday/Friday split this week as far as posting goes.

 

It was slow going on the way back to the palace, mainly because Shaw refused to ride in the carriage. She continued to insist that she was fine. But Root wouldn’t let her ride a horse just yet given her head injury. As a compromise the pair of them walked in front of the carriage Zoe and Carter rode in.

 

The streets were slightly less crowded this evening. It was third night, Trickster’s night. It was said that on third night the Lord of Illusions walked the earth again, seeking out the foolish and making bargains for their souls. The reality as far as Shaw knew was that the night gave young boys, with nothing better to occupy their time, an excuse to cause damage. “Oh no it was The Trickster that stole your chickens.” “The Trickster put your wagon on the roof.” Silly shit like that. Whoever was responsible, most people opted to spend third night indoors.

 

“Shaw, honestly, you’re going to strain yourself. Let’s just get in the carriage.”

 

“Like what you wanted to do before the traveling menagerie decided to stop by for a chat, buckets in hand, wasn’t strenuous?”

 

“There’s strain and then there’s strain, Sweetie.”

 

“For the last time, I can take a walk, Root.”

 

“It’s more a matter of should you at this juncture.”

 

Zoe stuck her head out of the carriage’s window. “Are you two going to bicker the entire way?”

 

“We would have worked out our tension in a healthier fashion if someone hadn’t opted for a bucket parade earlier.”

 

“Could the pair of you shut it?” Shaw barked. “All the chatter isn’t helping my headache.”

 

Root grabbed her wrist. “Either you’re taking a tonic when we get back to the palace or you’re getting in that carriage.”

 

“Root.” She tried to pull away.

 

But Root would not be moved when it came to Shaw’s health.  She squared her shoulders and stared the shorter woman down. “What’s it going to be, Sameen?”

 

“Ugh, whatever.”

 

The remainder of their journey went far faster once everyone was in the carriage. Soon they were being dropped off in front of the palace gate. The carriage was being sent back to the docks in case any of the guests who had remained in a dockside establishment for the evening required a ride back to the palace as well.

 

“I still say I could have walked the entire way.”

 

“And you could still be walking,” Carter replied as she climbed from the carriage. “We’re here already. Just drop it.”

 

“It’s the principle,” She grumbled as she glared at Carter from the carriage door.

 

“Let it go, Sweetie,” Root slapped her on the butt to get her to move.

 

“Nope,” Shaw shook her head. Though she did finally step from the vehicle. Root and Zoe quickly followed. His charges safely delivered, the driver directed the horses to move once again.

 

“Ser Shaw!”

 

“What now?” She grumbled.

 

One of the scullery maids, Janine, ran up to the group and handed Shaw a cloth bundle. “For you, your grace.”

 

“Okay, seriously you people have to knock that off.” The girl took a frightened step back at Shaw’s tone.

 

“Just call her Shaw like you always have,” Carter added in an attempt to calm the girl.

 

The girl nodded, “I was instructed to give you that Ser Shaw.”

 

“For the record, that’s only slightly better,” Shaw rolled her eyes. She opened the bundle to find a stack of biscuits. Her entire posture changed at the discovery of the tasty treat. “Nice,” She managed to slip out while simultaneously shoving three of them into her mouth.

 

Zoe gaped at the girl. “Wait, you’ve been waiting here how long just to give her a snack?”

 

“The Princess had a runner waiting at the square. He arrived fifteen minutes ago to let us know of your arrival. She instructed the kitchen to send something up to the gate for Ser Shaw.” Janine turned to the still chewing knight, “She believed you might be hungry given your ordeal.”

 

“Damn,” Zoe swore, “Someone told.”

 

“Not good,” Root hummed. Even she could agree that the prospect of an angry Gen was not a pleasant one.

 

“That’s all on you two,” Shaw mumbled off handedly as she went for another biscuit. “I was unconscious the entire time.”

 

“Thank you, Janine,” Carter dismissed the girl, since it appeared no one else was going to.

 

“One of us should go see to Gen.”

 

“I have an interrogation,” Carter replied shaking her head.

 

“Me too,” Shaw said sending a cloud of crumbs into the air.

 

Root smiled at Zoe. “What?” She leaned closer to her mindful of the chance of one of the guests milling about the courtyard overhearing, “She’s your sister,” Zoe hissed.

 

“Yes, but I have to help Lady Carter.”

 

“You do?” It sounded like that was new information to Carter.

 

“I do,” Root nodded. “She says I should go with you. So that leaves Zoe to see to Gen.” Neither Carter nor Shaw argued that point. Mainly because in that scenario neither of them were on the hook to soothe a pissed off princess.

 

“You know you won’t be able to use that excuse forever?” Zoe grumbled.

 

“If I were you I’d keep my hands close to my sides,” Root chuckled. “She bites you know.”

 

“Just like her sister,” Shaw muttered before shoving another biscuit into her mouth.

 

“I hate you both.”

 

“Always such a pleasure doing business with you, Lady Morgan.” Root took Shaw and Carter by the arm. “Come ladies, there is much to be done.”

 

“I hate you most of all,” Zoe shouted after them.

 

“She’s so dramatic.” Root lowered her voice, “I fear the bridge troll isn’t properly seeing to her needs.”

 

Shaw choked a little on her snack, “Can we never, ever discuss John and Zoe’s needs in the same sentence ever again?”

 

Carter pulled her arm from Root’s grasp, “I have to agree.”

 

“It’s a perfectly natural thing.”

 

“Oh so you really want to discuss what John looks like in the throes of…”

 

“No,” Root held up a hand, “I see your point and no. Never. Ever.” She began walking faster.

 

Carter and Shaw shared a look. “Sometimes it’s just too easy.”

 

“Let’s hope that’s a theme for the evening.”

 

The palace didn’t have a proper dungeon per se. The actual prison was on the outer edge of the city. One of Harold’s ancestors hadn’t seen much logic in keeping a bunch of criminals he himself had sentenced within stabbing proximity should any of them free themselves. What was once a small armory and guard barracks had been converted into a set of holding cells for any prisoners to be questioned before the Council of Lords. The building came to be known as the block, given its gray stone walls and squat, square structure.

 

They cut through the courtyard past the stables and walked along the west wing of the palace before crossing another courtyard blocked off by a wall with heavy iron gates. Carter nodded to the men manning the gate as they let them through. One of her lieutenants met them at the entrance to the block.

 

“Lady Carter.”

 

“I need to speak to the prisoner brought in earlier tonight.”

 

He looked confused, “Is he a prisoner, ma’am? My men and I were under the understanding that he was simply being held here for questioning.”

 

“We’ve received new insight since.”

 

“I’ll instruct the men to bring him to one of the interrogation rooms.” He tilted his head in thought, “Should he be secured for your conversation?”

 

She nodded, “I think that would be best.” With that the lieutenant rushed off to see to everything.

 

“New information?” Root raised an eyebrow.

 

“I didn’t know about the ship’s construction when I had Captain Salazar brought here.”

 

“Zoe was right,” Shaw smirked. “You figured it out already didn’t you?”

 

“What is it that you always say, Root? I have an inkling?”

 

“I don’t think I always say that,” She frowned.

 

“But you’re just as smug,” Shaw replied.  She nodded to Carter, “You have the overall smugness down.”

 

“Ah but is she correct? I generally have something backing my so called smugness up.”

 

“So called my ass,” Shaw muttered under her breath.

 

Carter shrugged, “I guess we’re about to find out.” She nodded to the door. “Come on. I need to check on one more detail before we have a chat with Captain Salazar.”

 

She led them down a hallway and then up a narrow staircase. “I thought the interrogation rooms were below ground?” Shaw asked. Was much easier to break someone if they had no way of seeing the sun and knowing how long they were being questioned.

 

“They are,” Carter replied. “Like I said, I need to check on something.” They went up two floors and then Carter led them down a dark hallway to a large door. She rapped on it three times before pushing the door open.

 

She revealed what looked like a massive storeroom. Shelves lined the walls and took up most of the space behind a massive oak table. There was a red haired woman in a neatly pressed guard uniform seated at one end of the table. She stood at attention, when she realized that Carter was the one who had come knocking.

 

“Ladies, this is Guardsman Locke,” She nodded to the red head. “Guardsman Locke, I trust you know my associates?”

 

“Only by reputation, ma’am.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Shaw hooked her thumb at Root. “She’s not here for you.”

 

“For which I’m quite thankful,” Guardsman Locke smiled. “How can I help you all though?”

 

“Captain Salazar was brought in earlier for questioning.”

 

“Aye.”

 

“Was he searched?”

 

“Yes, ma’am, just as protocol dictates for all our guests.” She disappeared behind one of the shelves for a moment. There was a clank and a muffled curse, Shaw assumed Locke had knocked something over in her haste to get whatever she had found for Carter. When she returned she held out what looked like a leather bound sheath of papers. “We found this.” Guardsman Locke smirked, “He tried to hide it down the back of his pants.”

 

Carter opened it. After a moment spent flipping the pages she let out a low whistle, “This explains a lot.” She nodded to the guard, “Excellent work.”

 

“Thank you, ma’am.”

 

Carter turned to Root and Shaw, “I’ve got everything I need now.”

 

“Care to share?”

 

“Downstairs,” She nodded. Carter turned to Guardsman Locke, “Keep this between us?”

 

“I never saw you,” She pointed to the papers, “Or that.”

 

“Come on,” Carter started for the door. “Our guest should be ready by now.”

 

They went back down the same stairwell. This time they continued down rather than exiting on the first floor of the building. The Lieutenant met them at the bottom of the stairs. “He’s in room three. Secured as requested. I’ve cleared the rest of the guards from this floor.”

 

“Thank you.” He gave Carter a salute and then disappeared up the stairs.

 

Root gestured to the end of the hallway, “Shall we then?”

 

“Shaw and I will go inside,” Carter said as she began walking down the hallway. “You’re staying out here.”

 

“What?” Root pouted, “And miss all of the fun?”

 

“You find this sort of thing a little too fun.”

 

“A lady needs her hobbies, Carter. More importantly, a lady should be able to enjoy them.”

 

“Exactly,” She tapped Root on the chest. “Your hobby. My job.”

 

“Fine,” Root rolled her eyes. “But why does she get to go in?”

 

“Shaw has a head injury, so I trust her to stay on her leash for once.”

 

“Not cool,” Shaw grumbled around her last biscuit.

 

“Besides you have to admit she’s more intimidating going just on looks.”

 

“I wouldn’t call her looks intimidating exactly.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“I simply mean you don’t inspire quite that feeling in me, Sweetie.”

 

Carter jumped in before Shaw could reply, “We definitely don’t want to give Salazar those kinds of feelings.”

 

“Now on that point we actually agree.”

 

“Look,” Carter began, “I need you to let me do this my way.” She pointed to the small observation port in the door. “You’ll be able to hear everything we say, once I open that. Just stay outside until we need you.”

 

Root smiled, “So I am a part of this little tableau?”

 

“Only if he forces my hand.”

 

“Oh let’s hope that he does.” Root practically bounced at the prospect. She hadn’t tortured anyone for information in ages.

 

“Down girl,” Shaw chided her. “Save some for the room.”

 

“You should know by now how much stamina I have, Sameen.”

 

“Okay,” Carter interrupted. “You just keep it to yourself for the moment. Shaw and I are going to go in now.”

 

“So what exactly is my role in this plan of yours?” She asked. “Am I just supposed to glare?”

 

“You could grunt a few times for good measure,” Carter quipped.

 

“This just keeps getting better and better,” Root sighed. The prospect of Shaw being, well, Shaw and using her natural charm to will a man into submission was such a delight.

 

Carter shook her head, “I really wonder about you sometimes.” She pulled the door open and nodded for Shaw to go in first. With one last hard look at Root she stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

 

The room was small, windowless. Just a chair for the accused behind a small table. A small brazier on the far wall afforded the room some light. Carter made sure to open the observation port in the door as promised, before addressing Salazar, “Good evening, sorry to keep you waiting.”

 

Salazar held his hands as high as he could, which meant they skimmed the table top. His wrists were connected to his ankles by heavy chains. The weight and length ensuring that any movement on his part would be difficult. “I am an officer in the king’s navy. Why am I being treated like a criminal?”

 

“Maybe because you are one,” Shaw sneered. His attitude called for much more than a few grunts.

 

“That is slander. I demand satisfaction.”

 

She held up her hands, “Fine by me. If you want to die today…”

 

“Shaw,” Carter interrupted, “Leash.”

 

“He started it.”

 

“And I’ll let you finish it, after he tells me what I want to hear,” She replied. Somewhat appeased by that, Shaw nodded and moved to lean against the wall across from Salazar.

 

“I don’t have anything to say after being treated so shamefully.”

 

“You know I have a son? Taylor. He’s practically a man these days but when he was younger he loved story time.” Carter cocked an eyebrow, “Do you like story time, Jack?”

 

He scoffed, “This is ridiculous.”

 

“See I think maybe you never had a proper storyteller around to do the job.” She paced the room, “I must say I’m quite good.” She smiled at Shaw, “Wouldn’t you say?”

 

“Sure. Especially, compared to some I’ve heard lately.” They were putting on a show, but that was the gods’ truth.

 

“So since you’re stuck here until I say otherwise, how about you let me tell you a story, Jack?” Carter frowned, “Can I call you Jack? I probably should have asked that from the start.”

 

“Go ahead.” He rolled his eyes, “Why not add another insult to the pile you’ve created?”

 

“Oh when I insult you, it’ll be much worse than calling you by your given name.”

 

“I earned the rank of Captain.”

 

“Yeah, I get the feeling you won’t be going by that title much longer,” Shaw replied.

 

“Quite possible,” Carter agreed. “Now, there once was an arrogant lord who, while quite intelligent, tended to piss people off wherever he went.”

 

“True story,” Shaw coughed.

 

“Now one day the lord was given a great task by his king. He was to build a ship. The greatest ship the king’s people had ever seen. And he did. He designed a beautiful ship. A wondrous ship. But one day something went wrong.”

 

Salazar frowned, “Is your plan to bore me to death with children’s stories?”

 

“If you don’t like story time we can move on,” Carter shrugged.

 

“Let’s cut the bull shit,” Salazar agreed. “Why am I here?”

 

“You’re here because you sabotaged _The Pride of Thornhill_.”

 

He laughed. “You’re mad.”

 

“In the sense that I’m extremely pissed off?” She frowned, “You bet your ass.”

 

“The mast fell on its own,” He scoffed. “Pierce’s fancy rigging system put too much weight on the yards.”

 

“That’s what you wanted everyone to think.”

 

“That’s what happened,” He countered.

 

“Funny thing, we found this among your belongings.” Carter tossed the bundle of papers Guardsman Locke had given her onto the table. “Lord Pierce had brought those along on the ship in case the king had any questions about the final design. He didn’t realize that King Harold wouldn’t be coming along today.” She leaned over the table towards Salazar. “They were in a secure lockbox in the map room. Your men saw you go in there after Shaw was brought back on board.”

 

“I am the captain. I can go anywhere I please on my ship.”

 

“True,” Carter allowed. “But you weren’t authorized to take those plans, were you?”

 

“I collected them for safe keeping.”

 

Carter frowned, “Was there a security breach the rest of us were unaware of, Jack?”

 

“I didn’t steal them,” He insisted. “I was protecting them.”

 

“Try selling that stupid excuse somewhere else,” Shaw growled, “We’re not buying it here.”

 

“Besides which, there were tool marks on the mast. It didn’t snap under the weight of the rigging, it was cut.”

 

“That doesn’t mean it was me.”

 

“You sure wanted to make sure no one went up on to the deck once Pierce got up there. You tried to stop me from joining him, remember?”

 

“Because we didn’t need any nobles messing about with the wheel,” Salazar replied. “I told him he shouldn’t be up there either, if you remember.”

 

“So it was simple coincidence that Lord Pierce just happened to be on the quarterdeck when the mast fell?  A coincidence that after someone tampered with the mast, these plans just happened to fall into your lap?” Carter’s tone implied just how likely she thought that to be.

 

“I told you I was keeping them safe.”

 

“From who?” Shaw asked. “All the guests on the ship had been personally invited by Pierce. None of them had a key to the map room and none of your men saw any of them go anywhere near there after the mast fell. They were already safe. You had no reason to take them.”

 

“I was concerned…”

 

“Because of the accident,” Carter finished for him. “Why would the mast accidentally falling on its own cause you to worry about those plans?”

 

“I thought someone might be up to something.”

 

“But you keep telling us it was an accident,” Shaw sneered at him. “Now someone could have been up to something? Which one is it Jack?”

 

“Someone could have used the accident to their advantage.”

 

“Someone did,” Carter agreed. “I think you tampered with the mizzenmast. You knew between the wind and the heat of the day it would eventually fall. Everyone would be so distracted by the crash that you would be able to slip away to steal the plans. Because that’s exactly what you did when the mast fell.”

 

“I-I…” Salazar sputtered.

 

Carter leaned her hip on the table and crossed her arms over her chest, “Now the question is, were you to be paid extra for killing Lord Pierce?”

 

“Pity he won’t be collecting.”

 

“I wasn’t trying to kill anyone.”

 

Shaw scowled, “Could have fooled me.”

 

“You weren’t supposed to be there. No one was supposed to be up there once we dropped anchor. I tried to stop you and Lord Pierce from getting hurt.”

 

And there it was. “Because you knew that mast was going to fall.” Carter moved so that she was standing over him, “Who were you stealing those plans for?”

 

Salazar shook his head.

 

“Awe don’t be shy now,” Shaw scolded him. “We’re going to find out eventually. You might as well save us all some time.”

 

He kept quiet.

 

Shaw cracked her knuckles, “You want me to knock a few of his teeth out?”

 

“Might impact his speech,” Carter shook her head.

 

“Break a few fingers?” She tilted her head to the side. “He’ll probably scream a bit, but he’ll still be able to talk.”

 

“They’ll kill him if I tell you.”

 

Carter raised an eyebrow, “Who is going to kill who?”

 

Salazar shook his head. “I said enough already.”

 

Shaw stepped forward. “Fingers it is then.”

 

He turned his head to look up at Carter. “She can beat me all she wants. I still won’t say another word.”

 

“You haven’t felt how hard I can hit yet, asshole.”

 

“Go ahead, knock me out, I really won’t be talking then.”

 

Carter held up a hand to keep Shaw from doing just that, “You’re not going to tell us who hired you?”

 

“You’re catching on,” He sneered, seeming to recover a bit of his earlier bravado.

 

“Fine,” Carter sighed. “I really did not want to do this but,” She gestured for Shaw to open the door.

 

“Oh do I get to come out and play?” Root smiled as she stepped into the room.

 

“That depends on Jack here.”

 

“You really think having some other noble yell at me is going to work?”

 

“Oh that’s adorable,” Root laughed. She stepped over to Salazar and held out her hand. “We weren’t properly introduced earlier. You can call me Root.”

 

His left eye twitched, but otherwise he attempted to appear non-affected. “You’re lying.”

 

She clicked her tongue against her teeth, “I know you’re going to wish that I were.”

 

He began to pale. “You can’t be her.”

 

“Oh but she is. We save her for special cases,” Carter added. “And I’m thinking you’re really special, Jack.”

 

Wonder of wonders, someone suddenly decided to get a bit chatty, “I didn’t mean to hurt anybody.”

 

Shaw snorted, “Your intentions and the lump on my head are sort of at cross purposes.”

 

Root smiled at her before directing her full attention back to Salazar. “Yes, as Ser Shaw delightfully pointed out, you did hurt her.” She squatted down so that she could look him directly in the eyes. “And she means a great deal to me.” Root glanced to her left, “How do you think I should respond to such an insult, Lady Carter?”

 

She tilted her head to the side as if she were truly considering the question, “Well, to be fair, there’s the way most people would handle such an insult, and then there’s your way. It’s typically bloodier.”

 

“Quite” Root pulled a knife seemingly out of thin air (Shaw knew that it was one she kept tucked up her sleeve), and began to twirl it between her fingers. “Round and round it goes,” Root cheerfully sang. “When it stops, I’ll start cutting, at your toes.”

 

“You can’t.” His eyes darted between the flashing knife and Carter. “You can’t let her cut me.”

 

“Why not? It’s sort of why the king keeps her around.” Carter shrugged, “You weren’t telling me anything when I asked nicely.”

 

“It’s really rather rude not to answer a lady,” Root hummed in agreement. She tapped the blade of the knife against her lips. “Nose rhymes with goes as well.” She leaned in until she was close enough that Salazar could feel her breath on his skin. “I could cut it off to spite your face instead?”

 

“The shipwrights. In Fairisle,” He shouted, “They paid me to steal the plans.”

 

“And how do I know that you’re telling me the truth? There are an awful lot of shipwrights in the world.”

 

“They run Fairisle,” He slammed his bound hands onto the table. “Everyone knows that.”

 

“Do they?” Root ran the knife across his forearm. Not enough to break the skin, just enough for him to imagine what it would feel like if she did.

 

Shaw was quite familiar with that little move. In an entirely different setting of course.

 

“Y-yes.” Salazar had begun to sweat. “They’re pissed Pierce went around them to construct _The Pride of Thornhill_.”

 

Carter spoke up, “So they wanted you to kill him?”

 

“No. I told you the truth. I wasn’t trying to kill anyone. It was like you said; I just wanted to cause a diversion so I could steal the plans. They wanted to discredit Pierce, and take his designs for themselves.”

 

Root stood and began to circle his chair. She made him watch her for three passes before she stopped behind him to ask, “How were you supposed to be paid?”

 

“Wasn’t about money.” Root tugged on the back of his collar. “Hey!” He leaned forward to relieve the sudden pressure on his windpipe. She twisted her hand in the fabric to tighten it. Just when his face was turning red, she released her grip a fraction so that he could choke out, “They have someone.”

 

Root tugged again and then let him go with a shove. He nearly slammed his head on to the table top from the force. “Who do they have?” She hissed in his ear.

 

“RJ!” He gasped. “They’re going to kill RJ.”

 

Root leaned back with a satisfied little grin. She moved to stand behind Salazar’s chair again. “Oh RJ. Of course,” She hummed. She did her wink/not wink thing at Carter, who was doing her best not to laugh.

 

It was probably weird that Shaw was extremely turned on by this little display.

 

Root threw the knife down on to the table with a thwack. It landed just between the pointer and middle fingers of Salazar’s right hand. His mouth fell open at the sight. Root placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned in to ask, “And who is this RJ to you?”

 

Shaw swallowed. But who cares if it was weird, really?

 

They met up with King Harold and the rest of their associates in the king’s private library not long after.

 

“So Salazar was supposed to trade the designs for RJ’s life when he returned to Fairisle,” Carter explained. Once Root put on her little show with the knife, Salazar couldn’t stop talking. “His original plan was to request leave while _The Pride of Thornhill_ was being repaired.”

 

“Idiot couldn’t even get that right,” Shaw snorted. “It won’t take that long to repair the mast.”

 

King Harold tapped his steepled fingers against his chin. “Perhaps he thought we’d delay the vessel’s official dedication after the accident.”

 

“Had he managed to drop the mast without injuring anyone we might have waited for a formal inquest until after the festival,” Carter suggested. “He might have been counting on being suspended on top of that. Captain being responsible for the care of his ship and all.”

 

“Indeed,” King Harold nodded.

 

Reese stood up from where he had been leaning against one of the bookshelves. “We need to decide what to do from here. A man’s life is still in danger.”

 

“More than one apparently,” Shaw pointed out.

 

He nodded. “Word will get back to Fairisle that we’ve brought Salazar in.”

 

“Not immediately, and even then we can control the narrative.”

 

“Your Highness?” Reese frowned not immediately understanding.

 

Root did however. “Uncle Harry are you plotting something naughty?” She beamed at the prospect of a good plot.

 

“All anyone outside of this room knows for certain is that we are holding Captain Salazar for questioning. If we let it be known in the right places that his testimony relieved us of any suspicions of wrong doing on his part and he were to be released…”

 

“The greedy idiots in Fairisle might spare his friend’s life long enough for a rescue,” Shaw finished.

 

“Dispatch Major Wells,” King Harold ordered Ser Reese. “She’s one of our best trackers. Then send a raven to Ser Lee with a missive requesting that he assist her. Fairisle is not far from his lands.”

 

“Meaning Simon knows the territory but shouldn’t owe any allegiances to the shipwrights.”

 

The king nodded, “You are growing clever in your advanced age, Ser Reese.”

 

“So that’s that right?” Shaw asked. “We keep eyes on Pierce until Wells and Ser Lee take care of the shipwrights and mission accomplished?”

 

Carter shook her head, “We still don’t know who hired the Red Stag.”

 

“She’s right,” Root agreed. “He’s still not safe.”

 

“Just how many people want to kill this jackass?”

 

“According to Her, at least one more.” Root raked her teeth across her bottom lip. “Other than you and Zoe.”

 

Shaw wasn’t going to even try to deny that she did indeed have the impulse to strangle the bumbling lord to save them all some time and energy. She did however, turn to look at the other woman accused. Zoe shrugged, “I was trapped in a carriage with him. You try not telling the man you want to kill him after that.”

 

“Fair point.”

 

King Harold tried to steer the conversation back to its original course, “It seems our work is far from over.”

 

“Does this mean we’re essentially back to the start?” Zoe groaned. This week was supposed to be somewhat of a holiday after the big announcement. Not this tangled mess.

 

“No we have the stag. We need to get him to talk,” Reese grumbled. The man had been remarkably tight lipped thus far.

 

Carter turned to Root, “Since tonight went so well, if you’d like to go visit our other prisoner, I’ll tell the guards to let you in.” She grabbed a stray bit of parchment and a quill, and began to scribble out a note that said as much.

 

Root snorted, “As if I couldn’t get in without them.”

 

“Don’t make me beat you upside the head with this olive branch I’m offering here.”

 

“Fine. Tell your toy soldiers that I accept your invitation.” Carter handed over the note with a smirk. Root ignored her and leaned over to kiss Shaw on the cheek. “Go relax a for a bit. I’ll meet you for dinner once I’m done?” Shaw grunted and waved her off.

 

“Samantha,” King Harold spoke up as she reached the door. “Do try and use some restraint.”

 

“Would you tie an artist’s hands and then request a masterpiece?” She pouted.

 

“I believe all that is required in this case is a reasonable reproduction.”

 

“For our guest’s sake I hope you’re right,” She replied as she walked out the door.

 

“I told the guards in the note not to leave the room,” Carter supplied. “They won’t let her do too much damage.”

 

Shaw snorted, “You really think your boys can stop Root from doing anything she wants to do?” Seemed like a great way to get a bunch of guards maimed if you asked her.

 

“If whoever wants to kill Pierce is in the city, they’d know that the Red Stag failed,” Reese cut in. “If they were willing to pay the stag’s asking price in the first place, then they won’t just let this vendetta go after one failed attempt.”

 

“Perhaps it’s time we stopped waiting for our culprits to strike.”

 

“You’re plotting without Root,” Shaw shook her head. “She’ll be crushed.”

 

The king ignored that little jibe. “Lady Carter, if you would, send some men into the city to announce that tomorrow night Lord Pierce and I will attend the bonfire at The Heralds’ Square. Be sure to have them include the fact that we shall bring libations for the crowd.”

 

Fourth night honored The Sentinel, the warrior god. People looked upon The Sentinel as a guardian, a protector. It sat second only to Thornhill’s patron dragon in the esteem of the people. On the fourth night of the Solstice Festival, large bonfires were lit in remembrance of fallen soldiers, the flames meant to draw The Sentinel’s favor to them. The celebrations across the capitol always brought massive crowds. It would be one of the most well attended nights of the festival. If not the most.

 

Reese whistled, “The crowd will be insane.”

 

“A rather tempting opportunity for assassins, no?”

 

Carter smiled, “I’ll have bellmen covering the city within the hour.”

 

“I’ll discuss the details with Lord Pierce tonight,” King Harold dipped his head. “Most of them.” He rose from his seat, “I trust I can rely on all of you to work out the finer details in regards to Lord Pierce’s security?” That question was met with nods all around.

 

“Very well. As I’ve a meeting to get to, I shall leave you all to it.” He turned and exited the library.

 

Reese looked at the group, “I don’t know about you ladies, but I’ve left some of my duties too long today. How about we all go and take care of a few personal matters and then regroup to plan here?”

 

“What you mean is, how about I go make sure Root doesn’t kill any guards and then we’ll plan?”

 

He smirked, “And Joss does have to send out the announcement.”

 

“Fine by me,” Zoe spoke up. “I could use a minute alone and a quick drink.”

 

“Give it three hours?” Carter suggested. “Maybe Root will get something out of the Red Stag by then and we won’t have to plan anything at all.”

 

“Would be nice for things to go the easy way for once,” Reese grumbled as he stood and walked to the door. The ladies swiftly rose from their seats and followed. “Just once, I’d like things easy.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “Great, now you’ve gone and jinxed it.”

 

“Petty superstition, Shaw?” He shook his head. He stood aside and held the door open for the women to walk through. “I thought you were above that sort of thing.”

 

“It’s third night, saying shit like that is tempting fate,” She explained as she passed him. “And I know fate is a fickle bitch. No superstition required.”

 

“Hate to say it but she’s right, John.” Zoe slapped him on the chest as she walked through the door. Carter simply shook her head.

 

“You three can’t honestly believe…”

 

“Dragon Slayer!”

 

Shaw whipped her head around to glare at Reese. Her eyes clearly reflecting her belief that this was completely his fault. Zoe smirked at him, “You were saying?”

 

“That’s not…”

 

“Ser Shaw, Ser Reese, ladies,” Lord Pierce sketched out a small bow. “I cannot begin to tell you how glad I am to see you all here and well.”

 

“Why the hell is he including you? Aren’t I the only one that went over the side?” Shaw whispered to Carter, who elbowed her in the gut.

 

“Lord Pierce,” Reese greeted. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

 

“I can take a moment to express my gratitude to Ser Shaw. Nothing is more important than that.” He stepped forward in an attempt to hug her.

 

Shaw quickly moved so that Reese and Carter stood between her and Pierce. “No, I’m sure everything is,” She replied. “Anything. Just pick something other than this.”

 

Lord Pierce smiled at her, “You saved my life. You know in some of the Southern Kingdoms that would mean you’re responsible for me for life.”

 

Reese took him by the elbow before Shaw could snap out a reply. “Good thing we’re in Thornhill.” He began guiding him towards the door. “Come along, Lord Pierce…”

 

“I told you to call me Logan.”

 

“You’re going to be late for dinner if you don’t move your ass, Logan.”

 

“Ah yes I suppose a king should not be kept waiting.” He bowed again, “Another time your grace.” He nodded to Carter and Zoe, “Ladies.”

 

Shaw looked at Carter, “There’s a dinner?” Not that she wanted to spend any extra time around Pierce, but it was still a holiday, any meals King Harold hosted were bound to be delectable. She had earned something delectable today.

 

“Did you miss the king mentioning his meeting?”

 

“He didn’t say dinner was involved.”

 

“I’m sure after we see to Root, you can convince Cook to feed you.” Carter led the way as they walked towards the stairs. “I strongly doubt you’ll have to do much convincing at all.” All the kitchen staff adored Shaw. Probably because she’d eat anything they put in front of her as long as it was meat based. She was Thornhill’s unofficial royal taste tester.

 

“Gen already told the kitchens to prep some of the boar’s ribs they received for you tonight,” Zoe added.

 

“That is why the kid is my favorite.” Shaw opened the door to the stairwell and waved them through.

 

“I thought it was because she’s a mini Root?” Carter chuckled.

 

“Oh god don’t speak that thought into existence tonight of all nights,” Zoe groaned. When the two other women blinked at her she shrugged, “What? I fully own the fact that I’m superstitious. You can’t say such things on third night.”

 

Shaw clapped her on the shoulder, causing her to stumble ahead a few steps. “Hate to break it to you Lady Morgan but that ship has long sailed.”

 

“Why would the gods make two of them?”

 

“He didn’t,” Carter snorted. “Gen is far more well-mannered than Root.”

 

“Far fewer explosions around the kid too.”

 

“Can we also not speak of explosions tonight?” Zoe turned to glare at them while shoving the stairwell door open with her backside.

 

Shaw smirked, “Afraid The Trickster will take it as an invitation?”

 

“Or your woman will.”

 

“Lady Morgan!”

 

“Ah,” She jumped and knocked her elbow against the door. Shaw smirked at her little stumble, while Carter full on laughed. Zoe glared at them both, “You can go to hell. Both of you.”

 

Zoe turned from their still insufferably smirking faces to greet the source of the voice, “Hayden.” Price was striding down the hallway towards them. “What can we do for you?”

 

“Your list,” He replied. “I found everything.” He dipped his head, his shaggy hair falling across his eyes, “Well, almost everything.”

 

“Come on,” She nodded towards the stairs. “We should probably go somewhere a little more private to go over what almost means.” Zoe frowned at Shaw and Carter, “Maybe these two will be less insufferable after a break.”

 

“Who’s insufferable?” Shaw chuckled.

 

“You are,” Carter answered. “I’m delightful.”

 

Zoe’s frown deepened into a full on scowl. “The two of you are something I can’t repeat in polite company.”

 

“Who’s polite?” Price wondered aloud. Zoe grabbed his arm and practically dragged him towards the stairs.

 

“She makes it far too easy sometimes,” Carter shook her head.

 

Shaw stated walking once again. “She should be thankful Root wasn’t here.”

 

“Now that is the gods’ truth,” She agreed.

 

The pair of them made it through the palace without too many interruptions. A few servants nodded to them along the way. Some were even brave enough to ask after Shaw’s health. “I killed a dragon. It’s not like a little fall from a boat is going to do me in.”

 

“I need you to consider it from a normal person’s perspective.” Normal people didn’t just fall from boats every day. Or if they did, they didn’t often see other days afterwards.

 

“I thought we already established that normal isn’t me?” Shaw said as she pushed open the doors to the courtyard.

 

“Oh now you consider that a good thing?”

 

“What can I say?” Shaw smirked, “Your inspirational speeches do wonders.”

 

Another familiar face greeted them once they were outside. Joey bowed his head as he approached them. “Lady Carter. Ser Shaw. May I have a moment of your time?”

 

“We’re kind of in a hurry,” Shaw began. Carter dug her heel into the top of her foot. “Fine,” She grumbled. “Make it quick though.”

 

“Are you well?” He asked. “You took quite the fall this afternoon.”

 

“That was nothing,” Shaw replied. “I’ve had much worse.”

 

“I’d imagine so.”

 

“Well, if that’s it.” Shaw attempted to walk away.

 

“Wait!” Joey held out his arm, “Thank you for saving my friend.”

 

Shaw looked down at his hand and then back up at him. “Whatever.” She turned and walked away. She could hear Carter making their apologies and then rushing to catch up to her.

 

She pointedly cleared her throat once she fell into step beside Shaw. “What? You said I needed to talk to Root and I did.”

 

“You did?” She seemed surprised.

 

“Yeah.” Shaw shrugged. She pointed over her shoulder to where she had left Joey with her thumb, “But what you never said, was that I had to like that guy.”


	10. The Bonfire and The Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ain't no party like a Root and Shaw party. Because a Root and Shaw party's got innuendos.  
> This one's surprisingly light on the murder though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So let's all just pretend that I had originally always intended to post this on Root Day shall we?
> 
> I had an original plan for this one but then in editing I added some banter and then more banter and then where the hell did these feelings come from and the next thing I knew I was reworking large swaths of this chapter because apparently I still have shit I have to work out from season five. Hope it was worth the slight delay. And hey it is nice to have something go up on Root Day right?
> 
> Also I am going to go ahead on record and say given that the newest Mass Effect game will be in my hands on Tuesday that next week's update schedule is probably going to go all funky too. 
> 
> I'm sorry, I have to get my gay on in space y'all.

 

 

The sky was clear. Nothing hindered one’s view of the stars. Many would say that was a good omen this of all nights. The moon was bright and full, shining down on the capitol, providing extra light for the gathering below.

 

Shaw was perched on a rooftop overlooking The Herald’s Square. She and Cole were stationed on rooftops on the north and western edges of the square respectively. If any trouble of the murderous kind popped up in the crowd, their job was to put it down swiftly. To that end, a full quiver was slung across her back. Her new bow was clutched in her hand. Its former owner had been moved to the prison on the outskirts of the city. 

 

The Red Stag hadn’t been overly helpful. Oh he had talked. There weren’t many in the world who could resist Root’s particular brand of persuasion for long. However, he had only been able to reveal that he and his men had been paid a ridiculous sum to attack the caravan, with a caveat that there would be a hefty bonus in it for them if Lord Pierce met with a knife. The money and all their instructions had been brought to their headquarters by courier.

 

It was another dead-end in a series of dead-ends.

 

“Hey, Sweetie.”

 

“Root,” Shaw nodded, keeping her eyes trained on the crowd. “How was the patrol?” While she and Cole were playing gargoyle, Root, Harper, and Zoe were roaming the crowd. Carter and Reese were on close protection duty for the king and his retinue. Several guards and a handful of Zoe’s agents were spread out among the masses as well.

 

“Boring,” She huffed as she came to sit beside her. “Two pickpockets, more drunks than even I can count, and one lord who got a bit too grope-y near the corral.”

 

“What?” Someone was about to lose a hand.

 

“Oh nothing to get so growly over,” Root waved her off. “He’s kissing a pile of manure for my trouble as we speak.”

 

Shaw smirked. “Sorry I missed that.” Still, she’d probably ask around later. If Root said she handled it, it was handled, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t like to keep an eye on anyone stupid enough to try and grope Root.

 

That level of stupid was dangerous.

 

Root tapped her heels against the side of the building along to the beat of the song being played by the musicians below. Eyes still sweeping across the crowd, Shaw asked, “Why are you up here bugging me?” She didn’t actually mind the company but Root’s job was supposed to be walking around down there.

 

“So rude,” Root tisked. “I suppose if I’m not wanted here, I’ll just take your snack and climb back down.”

 

Woah, hold on wait a freaking minute. “Snack?”

 

“One of the stalls had those spicy dried sausages you like so much. I managed to snag a few and some cheese. But if you don’t want to be bothered.”

 

Shaw’s stomach took that moment to argue its case. Loudly. Judging by the smug grin on Root’s face she had heard the growl clearly. “I guess I could be a little bothered.”

 

“And if I told you that I may have found a stall with those little honey cakes you covet…”

 

“The ones with the jam filling?”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

Sold! “Hand them over and you can bother me all you want.”

 

“I knew you’d see it my way.”  Root held up two cloth bundles. She untied the first revealing a handful of the sausages she had mentioned and a small wedge of blue-veined cheese. Then she held up the second bundle. That one was larger given its delicate contents.

 

“Here,” Shaw held the bow out to her. “I can still watch while I eat.”

 

Root’s smile at that was wide, “You point, I shoot?”

 

That was the plan. Yet she hesitated for a moment to hand the bow over. “It’s got a mean draw.”

 

“So do you.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. “Be serious for a moment. We’re supposed to be working.”

 

“I know, Sweetie,” Root breezily replied. “I can handle your new toy.” She sat the bag of treats down beside Shaw’s leg and took the bow from her hand. Root made a show of pulling back on the string. The muscles in her arm stood out in sharp relief in the pale moonlight but she managed it.

 

“See?” Root smiled triumphantly. “That training regimen of yours works wonders.”

 

She’d admit to feeling a flare of something some might call pride at that. Shaw picked up the bundle and began to untie it. “Especially seeing as I had so little to work with in the beginning.”

 

What? Root’s head was swelled enough already.

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“You had little stick arms, Root.” She still sort of did. It didn’t matter all that much, as brute force wasn’t really Root’s game when it came to a one on one fight. But a little added strength in their line of work never hurt.

 

“I did not.”

 

Shaw made a point of flexing her right arm as she brought one of the small cakes to her mouth. “Uh huh.”

 

“Not everyone is as blessed in that area as you.” 

 

“You mean not everyone is as disciplined as I am.” She saw Root lick her lips out of the corner of her eye. Shaw shoved the cake into her mouth with a smirk. She closed her eyes with what sounded suspiciously like a moan. Damn those things were good.

 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Root scolded her. “Eyes open, Dragon Slayer. We’ve still a job to do.”

 

Shaw did open her eyes, to glare at her, “Convenient for you to remember that now.”

 

“I don’t know when you think I’d forgotten,” Root turned her nose up in the air. “My mind is always on the mission.”

 

“Uh huh.” Shaw reached into the bag for another cake. “You’re always so professional,” She mumbled around her next bite.

 

“Protecting the kingdom is my sacred duty. Of course I take it seriously.” Root rolled her eyes, “Honestly, Sam.”

 

“You are such a brat.”

 

“Care to spank me for it later?”

 

The sound of the drums and the pipers faded away. “It’s time,” Root noted just before there was a blast from the trumpets. The noise of the crowd fell to an expectant hush.

 

The wood for the bonfire was stacked in the middle of the square. Several guards formed a perimeter around it, to avoid any overzealous partygoers becoming an unwilling part of the kindling. On the north side, there was a raised platform, that stood as tall as a man. The king and Gen were seated on that platform to observe the night’s proceedings. Carter stood just behind King Harold, while Bear lay at Gen’s feet.

 

King Harold stood from his seat. The crowd fell silent so that his next words were heard clearly across the square. “Welcome friends. It is truly an honor to be among you this most glorious evening.”

 

The crowd broke into riotous applause.

 

He waved to someone standing just off stage. Soon Lord Pierce was climbing the small set of steps on the eastern edge of the platform. Ser Reese followed just behind him.

 

The king raised his hand for silence. “If you would all indulge us for a moment, we would like to give a word of thanks to Lord Logan Pierce.” He gestured for Pierce to stand beside him. “For those of you who don’t know, Lord Pierce is the man responsible for the design of our new royal flagship.”

 

“What is he doing?”

 

“Seems to me he’s checking our bait.”

 

Shaw set her food down and reached for the bow. “I hope he knows what he’s doing.”

 

“The whole point of this excursion is to draw out our murderer. This is his plan, trust him.”

 

Shaw shook her head and nocked an arrow instead. When everyone's focus was on Harold, it would be an excellent opportunity for someone to have  ago at Pierce, now that everyone knew his exact location on the square.

 

They watched as Reese lit a torch in one of the small braziers that had been set on stage. He walked over to Lord Pierce and handed him the torch. He raised it over his head to massive cheers from the crowd.

 

When the noise fell to a dull roar Lord Pierce handed the torch over to the king. “Thank you for allowing me to play a small role in tonight’s festivities.” He gave a low bow.

 

King Harold nodded his head. “You have ensured the safety of our people. This small gesture is the least of the rewards awaiting you.”

 

“Your uncle is laying it on a little thick,” Shaw grumbled.

 

Root swat at a persistent mosquito. “He understands how to play a crowd.”

 

Judging by the cheering, Shaw supposed that was accurate.

 

King Harold waved the torch, and the crowd’s noise fell to nothing once again. It was time for the blessing of the flames. He walked down a set of portable steps that had been wheeled up to the front of the stage. Several guards created a path through the crowd so that he could walk to the stacked wood. “We light this fire for those we have lost. Let the flames carry their memories to the stars.” Some in the crowd said the words along with the king. “When we look at the heavens let us give thanks for the sacrifices we stand upon in order to witness this night’s glory.”

 

He lowered the torch to the piled wood. “May they rest in peace knowing that as long as one stands to light the flame, they will never be forgotten. And may The Sentinel watch over those they left behind.” The wood popped and crackled. Soon, aided by a bit of one of Root’s quick burning concoctions, the entire pile was covered in merrily dancing flames.

 

“I always liked that part of the dedication.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“As long as one stands to light the flame,” Root explained. “It’s a beautiful sentiment. Though Uncle Harry actually skipped a line or two in his recitation.”

 

“Of course you’d know that.” Shaw shook her head, “Though I’ve never heard it said any different.”

 

“Well you wouldn’t have,” She agreed. “The particular reading I’m referring to fell out of favor generations ago.”

 

“And?”

 

“As long as one stands to light the flame, they will never be forgotten. As one remembers, though their form be no more, they shall never truly die. May The Sentinel watch over the memory keepers until the stars fall and spirit and flesh are united again on the other side.”

 

“Gee I have no idea why they would have stopped saying that,” Shaw deadpanned.

 

“It’s beautiful.”

 

“It’s depressing,” She countered. Form be no more, in other words dead. You were dead. Yeah, memories are nice and all, but you’re still dead.

 

“No, it’s not. It’s hopeful. It’s saying that our loved ones are never really gone, if they’re remembered, then they live through us. Their spirit is with us. And one day we’ll see them again.”

 

“Pardon my pragmatism, but you can’t touch a ghost.” Weird hungry ones in creepy Tree People caves excepted. “They may live on so to speak, but they’re not actually living. If it were you, I’d prefer you living on in the flesh.”

 

Root almost choked. That was skirting awfully close to something Shaw had never spoken aloud. Something she was sure Sameen never thought she was capable of saying let alone feeling. She savored the warm glow it created in her chest for a breath. Preserving that memory to live on.

 

Then, with her girl’s distaste for sentiment in mind, she quirked her lips and batted her eyes, “Don’t worry, Sweetie. I’m not planning on going anywhere. You’ve plenty of time to prefer my flesh all you want.”

 

“And now you’ve made it weird.”

 

Root’s brows drew together in confusion, “I was trying to be sweet.”

 

Ironic as Shaw’s expression was rather sour. “You made it sound like I wanted to eat you with that flesh bit.”

 

“It’s true that I certainly wouldn’t be opposed.” She held out her arm, “Care for a nibble?”

 

“Stop,” Shaw groaned as she eased the string of he bow forward so she could remove the arrow without firing. “Not even you can make an innuendo about flesh eating work.”

 

“Says who?” Root pouted, “I can make any innuendo work.” She waved her left hand. “Give me something. A prompt. Pick anything.” Because of course she took that little comment as a personal challenge. “Guaranteed, I’ll make your toes curl.”

 

Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Sometimes I honestly cannot believe the randomness of the conversations I end up having with you.”

 

She bumped their shoulders together. “Keeps life interesting.”

 

“Because what I need is my life to be even more interesting.” Half the level of interesting in her life had killed lesser men.

 

“I will admit I would have much rather spent tonight otherwise occupied, but that time will come.”

 

“And so will we?” Shaw drawled.

 

She nodded, “All in good time.” Her tone was more wistful than playful though.

 

“You’re being awfully moody tonight. Any reason?”

 

“I’m simply overtaken by the spirit of the evening I suppose.”

 

Shaw knew when to pick her spots. Instead of pressing her companion for more information, she decided to take matters into her own hands. “What would it take to get you overtaken by the spirit of getting me some more of those little cakes?”

 

Root laughed. It was the exact reaction she had been going for. “I adore you.”

 

“Will that get me more cake?”

 

She leaned in to whisper in her ear, “And any number of other delights.”

 

“Are we still talking pastries,” Shaw smirked, “Because of someone’s grabby hands, I had to skip dinner to have enough time to climb up here before the crowds moved in.”

 

Root chuckled, “For now.” She stood up and began to move towards the side of the building where she could climb down unnoticed.

 

“Hey, Root.”

 

She turned to look back at her, “Yes, Sameen?” The light from the bonfire gave Root an ethereal glow. She was like something from the stories Shaw’s father told her before bed as a child. Otherworldly. So stunning that Shaw completely forgot what she had wanted to say a moment before.

 

She must have been staring too long because Root frowned, “Is everything alright, Sweetie?”

 

“What?” Shaw shook her head. “Fine.” There was no way that she was going to explain that she went stupid at just the sight of her. Even if Root would love it.

 

“Where did you go just now?”

 

“Nowhere, I’m right here waiting for you to go get me my food.”

 

“Alright, Sameen. I'd hate for anyone to claim that I didn’t do my utmost to leave my woman fully satisfied.”

 

The ale was freely flowing as Root pushed her way back through the crowd. Never let it be said that the good citizens of Thornhill ever turned down a free drink. Spirits were high. The people were happy. In the very least King Harold had made his subjects extremely happy with this latest plot.

 

She was passing a group of several younger nobles, when a figure broke off from the group and fell into step beside her. “Harper.”

 

“Root.”

 

“See anything?”

 

“If anything means assassins?” She shook her head. “Not a one.”

 

Root slowed to a stop. “I’m beginning to think this plan was a misstep.” Anyone wanting to take a shot at Pierce had already passed on a prime opportunity while everyone’s focus was on the king.

 

“Is that why you snuck off before the stack went up?” She teased. “And where did you disappear to?”

 

“Take a guess.”

 

Harper smiled, “Oh that was a rhetorical question.”

 

“Just wanted to hear the sound of your own voice then?” Root quipped.

 

“Why not?” Harper shrugged. “It’s quite lovely, I’ve been told.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“But I was just wondering if you or Shaw saw anything interesting up there? Because let me tell you it’s dull down here.”

 

Root gestured to the crowd of reveler’s around them, “You call this dull?” Not that she disagreed, but Harper tended to react to such circumstances in a far more normal fashion. A man stumbled by wearing nothing but his smalls. A normal person wouldn’t exactly call that dull.

 

“Yes,” Harper nodded. “I finally get included in a big operation and I’ve done nothing but sidestep about a hundred drunks. I was expecting much more action. Where’s the assassins? Where’s the gore?”

 

“You know a lack of action is typically a good thing.” Who knew the friendly girl was so bloodthirsty?

 

“Sure the one job I’m included in for more than watching Gen and nothing’s happening. Such a waste.”

 

Root smiled as she saw a familiar face approaching them from the crowd. “I wouldn’t say it’s going to be a waste exactly.”

 

“Oooo am I going to get to punch something?” She punched the air for good measure.

 

Root could appreciate the enthusiasm. “Depends on what you’re in to.”

 

“What?”

 

“Lady Ginsberg,” Joey smiled as he reached them. Harper mouthed the name in surprise but went along with it. “I haven’t seen your lovely face all day.”

 

“You know things to do,” Root shrugged. One particular grumpy, gorgeous thing. They’d had a bit of a lie in that morning, as they had been up quite late with the others planning out tonight’s operation. Then Root had made sure to give Shaw a thorough physical in light of her accident the day before, prior to the knight setting out for this evening’s post.

 

“I’m sure. Lord Pierce was quite surprised to be included in tonight’s festivities.”

 

“Really?” Harper snorted. “He didn’t act like it.” Root had to agree. He had preened as if he were part peacock.

 

“I won’t argue that he enjoys a bit of attention.”

 

“Just a tiny bit,” She quipped.

 

“But he was truly honored to be recognized by the king for his work.”

 

Root gestured between the pair, “Joey, have you met Harper officially?”

 

“I don’t believe so, my lady.” Her took Harper’s hand and brought it to her lips. “A distinct pleasure I’m sure.”

 

“Quite distinct,” She smiled. She cut her eyes over to Root and raised an eyebrow.

 

“Joey works for Lord Pierce as his personal bodyguard. He’s quite good with his hands.”

 

“And how would you know that?”

 

“Purely innocent reasons, I assure you,” Joey explained with a grin.

 

“Not too innocent,” Root drawled.

 

Harper’s eyes widened, “Uh okay.”

 

“He helped me steal something in my unrulier days.”

 

“There was a time that you were even worse than you are now?” Harper snorted in disbelief. She of course knew of Root’s reputation, but she had never seen all of what she was capable of in the flesh so to speak.

 

Joey nodded, “The things I could tell you, my lady.”

 

“How about we get a drink and you can share?” She looked around, “Unless you’re still working?”

 

“My lord is currently sitting with the king. Between Lady Carter and the wolf, they have on the platform, I believe he’s safe enough for the moment.” He held his arm out for Harper to take.

 

Mission accomplished, Root decided it was time for her to withdraw from the field. “You kids behave yourselves.” She wandered off before they could reply.

 

She bobbed and weaved through the crowd. Her eyes scanned the people around her for any signs of aggression. There was plenty of the drunken variety, but Root didn’t see any signs of anyone with truly ill intentions.

 

The stall with the cakes was on the outer rim of the festivities, on the southern end of the square. She joined the que and when she reached the front she ordered double the amount of cakes she had received the first time. Knowing she was a friend of Ser Shaw, the baker quickly gathered everything together, even throwing a few extra biscuits in to the bundle before he handed it over.

 

Root turned away from the stall with a beaming smile. Shaw would be pleased. And given the weight of the bundle perhaps Root would be able to take one bite of the sweet confections herself.

 

_Look up._

 

Knowing an order when she heard one, Root did exactly that. A flutter of movement on the roof of the building in front of her caught her eye. It was the same hawk that she saw dockside and then later on _The Pride of Thornhill_ , she was certain of it. “And what are you doing here?”

 

It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? One sighting of a bird this far from its normal habitat was one thing. Two was decidedly odd. But three times? Three times was a pattern that led to several interesting possibilities.

 

_When it moves, follow it._

 

“The bird?”

 

_Follow it._

 

“This is an odd request, even for you.”

 

“Something up?”

 

Root turned her head to see Reese standing beside her. She didn’t know why he was this far from the stage but it did work in her favor. She smiled, “For once your timing is perfect.”

 

His hand slid down to the hilt of his sword. “An attack?”

 

“Another mystery.”

 

His shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Don’t you think we have enough of those at the moment?”

 

“We do,” She agreed. “But this one may open up the answers to our larger problem.”

 

To his credit, Reese opted not to argue. “What do you need?”

 

“A delivery boy.” Root’s smile grew wide. “Go tell Sameen I had to follow up on a lead.” She shoved the bundle of cakes into Reese’s hands. “And for god’s sake don’t squish those.”

 

He ignored the second half of those orders, because he was under no delusion that it was a polite request, for the moment. “She’ll want to know more than that.”

 

“I don’t have time to get into it. If she asks, tell her I’ll give her the details later.” Because there was no way she was going to tell anyone that a bird was her lead until it led her to something of use. The bridge troll would never let her hear the end of it, if this pursuit lead to nothing. Let alone what Sameen would say.

 

“Like that will help any.”

 

“Lead with the cakes.” She looked up again. The hawk flapped its wings. It was clearly about to take off.

 

“And pray I don’t lose a hand?”

 

“That’s the spirit.” Root turned to walk away. “Oh,” She looked back over her shoulder at him. “Let her know that I’ll meet her back at the palace if the bonfire ends before I’m finished.”

 

“The way this crowd is going through the drinks; this party could go all night.” He didn’t look overly excited by that fact. Root tilted her head. Of course he didn’t typically look excited about anything.

 

_Perched on a sill, halfway up the manor on the northwest corner._

 

“Thanks.” Root pressed on as quickly as she could through the crowded square. Things began to ease up as she reached the edge of the gathering. She found the hawk exactly where She said it would be.

 

Root managed to work her way clear of the crowd just as the hawk took off again. She followed along as best she could, given she had to follow the line of the streets and alleyways and the bird could soar without obstruction. She spoke up occasionally along the way telling Root to go faster or make a turn.

 

Soon Root found herself in a very familiar area of the city. “It’s going to the palace isn’t it?”

 

 _Yes_.

 

“Do you know to whom?”

 

_No._

 

“But it’s no coincidence that it’s flying to the place on a night when the building will be practically empty?”

 

_No._

 

“Are you as worried about all this as I am?”

 

_Possibly._

 

Root rolled her eyes, “Good talk.”

 

 _You’re spending too much time with Sameen_.

 

“Now you know that isn’t true,” Root chuckled. In fact, if she were to be asked, she would declare that for a holiday she hadn’t spent nearly enough time celebrating with her girl this week.

 

The streets were nearly empty as she reached the main gate on the outer wall of the palace. The guards watching the street didn’t even look overhead as the hawk soared over them. Normally, Root preferred to enter though one of the smaller, lesser used entrances, but the hawk’s flightpath dictated her route.

 

Ian was speaking to one of the guards at the gate. He had been in the crowd earlier at the square. Root supposed that since Carter was working tonight, the man had no real reason to stick around the party. His lord was being taken care of. His sights were set on one woman in particular. If he wasn’t much of a drinker, there wouldn’t be much of interest to him once the dedications were complete.

 

Root slipped through the gates without being noticed by either Ian or the guards. She glanced up at the sky as soon as it was in view again. The hawk had flown over the gate and had turned towards the west. Was it flying towards the block? Or a portion of the palace itself?

 

She kept track of it as best she could as she wound her way around the stables and the inner wall of the palace. Fortune was with her, as when she rounded a bend the hawk was in full view in the sky above her. She watched as the hawk landed on the railing of a small balcony. “That leads to a drawing room,” Root noted.

 

 _In the guest wing, yes_.

 

“Smart. If the presence of the bird were to arouse someone’s suspicions, it could not directly be tied to any particular guest based on that landing spot.” Root was fortunate again as she had entered a small rose garden. She moved so that several shrubs concealed her from view from the balcony.

 

Several of their guests had skipped tonight’s bonfire citing the large crowds. That in and of itself wasn’t immediately suspicious as many who had lost a loved one to battle preferred to mourn in solitude. But it did up the list of potential owners of the curious bird.

 

The hawk made a sound like cak-cak-cak.

 

“Letting it be known it’s arrived?” Root mused.

 

_It is remarkably well trained._

 

Root remained waiting for several more minutes before the handle of the door began to twist. The hawk puffed up in anticipation of seeing its target. Root was rather amused that she had that in common with the bird. Finally, Talibah stepped through the open door.

 

“Why hello there,” Root smirked. She couldn’t say she was completely surprised by this turn of events.

 

Talibah stroked the bird’s chest. After a few moments of petting, she reached down and untied something from its leg. Then she reached into a pocket of her robe and drew something out.

 

_A small scroll. One for her and one in return for whoever sent the bird._

 

It was odd for a hawk to be used in such a fashion. Ravens. Pigeons. The occasional crow, sure. But she had never seen a hawk used as a messenger. Not to mention the fact that she had seen it now in several locations around the city. Homing birds tended to be trained to come and go between two locations only. “Orders on Pierce?”

 

_Possibly. Or she could be exchanging love notes._

 

Root snorted, “Somehow, I don’t think it’s that benign.” Though she did appreciate the joke. She watched as Talibah tied her scroll to the hawk’s leg.

 

She bit her bottom lip. “What to do?” She needed to find out what was on those scrolls. The hawk was too high for her to hit with one of her throwing knives. If she moved from her current position in search of higher ground, Talibah could see her and know that they were on to her. She could risk it and confront her head on. But Talibah had the high ground, and several paths to escape if she opted to run instead of fight.

 

_Search her room tomorrow._

 

“If she’s half as intelligent as she appears, she’ll burn that scroll as soon as she’s read it.”

 

_It’s the best option at the moment._

 

“The best of all bad options isn’t much of one.” If that was another kill order to a mercenary group for Pierce… They could only fight so many battles before someone got lucky, or unlucky as it were.

 

 _Patience_.

 

“I hate when you tell me that.”

 

 _I know_.


	11. Two For Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets revealed, just maybe not helpful ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look I got one up on time! WOOOT!

 

Shaw shoved her fifth teacake of the afternoon into her mouth as she watched the crowd. Oooh raspberry. She licked a stray bit of the glaze from her lips. King Harold was hosting a high tea for his guests in his private garden. She was currently conducting very important surveillance from the dessert table.

 

“You want to go easy on those?” Carter chuckled as she came to stand beside her.

 

“Actually? I don’t.” Shaw pointedly picked up another cake.

 

“We want people to have a reason to loiter. Having some food remaining for the guests would help.”

 

“Noble wrangling is your boss’ job today not mine.” Shaw was on recon today. Honestly, they couldn’t expect her to go snoop on an empty stomach. What if her stomach rumbled at an inopportune moment and gave her away? She was merely ensuring the success of their very important mission here.

 

“You work for him too you know.”

 

“Technically.”

 

“Actually,” Carter countered.

 

“Details,” Shaw mumbled around a mouthful of cake. Pistachio. Hmm. A shipment must have come in while she was knocked out the other day.

 

“Speaking of, we think we can buy you and Root about half an hour before anyone notices you’re missing.”

 

“Plenty of time.” The guest rooms weren’t that big.

 

“Lady Carter,” Her Assistant Steward walked up to them. He nodded at Shaw, “Your grace.” She rolled her eyes and reached for another cake. “I trust you find the food to your liking?”

 

She nodded, “Excellent as always.” Though it sounded more like, “Mufslant ask plawas.”

 

“Pardon her,” Carter drawled, “She claims to have human parents, but I’m almost certain she was raised by wolves.”

 

He smiled though the expression looked a bit uncomfortable on his typically serious face. “Will the king be calling for everyone to be seated soon, or do we have time to refresh the drinks?”

 

“Top off the cups. We wouldn’t want anyone to get parched in the sun.” The garden was shaded and there was a lovely breeze today, but the way the week was going so far it was best not to take any chances.

 

“It shall be done then.”

 

“Thank you again for making those adjustments to the seating chart.” They had had Talibah moved to King Harold’s table under the guise of his wanting to know more about her business contacts for future trade discussions in the south.

 

“It was easy enough, Lady Carter. Given we’ve a few no shows.” He sounded absolutely affronted at the thought that anyone would decline an invitation to dine with the king, let alone simply fail to show up without giving some form of notice.  

 

“I’m sure our missing guests were simply delayed. No one would intentionally ignore the king,” Carter soothed the man. She glanced back across the lawn. At least Gen looked to be having a nice time chasing some of the younger children around the garden just beyond the tables. It was too bad none of the girls her age were around this afternoon.

 

“Indeed, ma’am. If there is nothing else, I’ll see to the drinks.” Carter dipped her head and he turned on his heel and scurried away.

 

“Your ass ever get chapped from all the kissing?”

 

Carter snorted, “Does yours?”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. “I don’t like it.”

 

“You think I do?” She shook her head. “I get it though. All this is hard to adjust to when you weren’t born to it.” It had been quite an adjustment for her going from the army to a member of the court. Shaw’s climb had been far steeper.

 

“Years later and I still can’t wrap my head around it,” Shaw scowled. “And this Duchess crap isn’t helping.”

 

“I wish I could tell you why King Harold suddenly decided to bestow that title on you now, but I’m just as clueless as you are.” It was a minor mystery in comparison to everything else. Yet Carter couldn’t say that his timing wasn’t curious.

 

“Who knows why he does half the things he does? That man’s mind is a twisted place.”

 

“Runs in the family.” Carter smiled, “Why do you want to marry in to it again?”

 

“I was coerced,” Shaw grumbled. And really didn’t that prove her point?

 

Something caught Carter’s attention across the way. “As much as I’d like to continue this chat, it looks like Zoe is about to strangle the guest of honor.” Lord Pierce was practicing extremely close talking, for lack of a better descriptor.

 

“Let her, at least we’d be done with all these games.”

 

“You’re kidding, but it’s honestly crossed my mind,” Carter chuckled as she walked away.

 

See now that was why Shaw liked the woman.

 

She watched as Carter made her way across the garden. Shaw’s eyes narrowed as she passed Cole of all people. “Why is he here?” She wondered aloud. Carter spoke to him for a moment and then pointed over at Shaw. He nodded and began to head her way. Looks like she was about to find out.

 

“Shaw,” He greeted her once he reached the table.

 

“What are you doing here?” As far as she was aware Cole hadn’t been a part of the plans for this afternoon.

 

“I walked Veronica up.”

 

“You’ve been here all day?” And she hadn’t seen him? That was unusual.

 

“No.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “She came in late today. She cleared it with everyone.”

 

“O-kay.” Like Shaw cared if someone was late. Veronica was a hard worker and everyone around here knew that. Her schedule was none of Shaw’s concern. “And where’s your cane?” How many times did they need to have this conversation?

 

“I forgot it.”

 

“You forgot it? Again?”

 

“Leave it alone, Sam.”

 

She held up her hands, “Fine you want to severely cripple yourself instead of just being slightly crippled who am I to stop your dumb ass? Go ahead.”

 

“I will.”

 

“I’m not going to stop you.” If he wanted to wear his ass as a hat, that was just fine. She was done trying to protect him from himself.

 

“Fine,” He huffed. They stood silently watching the crowd for a few minutes. “Has anyone said anything to you?”

 

“About?”

 

“Her being late.”

 

“What is with you today?” Shaw rolled her eyes. Why was he bringing that up? “No, why would they?”

 

“No reason.” He gestured to the table in front of them. “So cakes.”

 

“Cakes?”

 

“You ever wonder how they make the layers so tiny?” He picked one up and studied it. “So very tiny. Tiny little, fragile things.”

 

“Are you high?”

 

He dropped the cake, “What?”

 

“You’re acting squirrelier than normal.” Being fidgety. Not taking his cane places. Getting overly defensive about both. And Veronica had been sick a lot lately. Her eyes narrowed. Oh something was up. “Spill it.”

 

Cole wrung his hands. “We’re having tea and biscuits with thieves, pirates, and god knows what else right now,” He rushed out in a whisper.

 

“Need I remind you that we used to be god knows what else?” Shaw still was, even if Cole had gone soft.

 

“Maybe you were,” He sighed. “I was just your shadow.”

 

“Okay, that’s it.” Shaw grabbed him by the ear. He was deflecting and pouting at the same time. Something was definitely up and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

 

“Hey!” Cole yelped as she pulled him back into the palace and down the hallway. He had to stumble bent half over behind her the entire way.

 

Shaw didn’t let go until they were behind the closed door of an empty lounge. They hadn’t called for the guests to be seated in the garden yet, so in the meantime he was going to give her some answers. “I said, spill it.”

 

“There’s nothing to sp…” At Shaw’s piercing glare he blurted, “Veronica’s pregnant.”

 

Shaw blinked at him.

 

“She’s nearly four months along.”

 

Shaw blinked again.

 

“She’s due just after harvest.”

 

Shaw kept right on blinking.

 

“Are you going to say anything because that blinking thing is creeping me out.”

 

“I’m sorry. I just assumed your marriage, like the majority of your life, was sexless.”

 

Cole slapped her on the shoulder. And then began to shake his hand back and forth from the sting of colliding into Shaw’s well-muscled form. She rolled her eyes, “Oh stop it you big baby.”

 

“That’s it,” Cole groaned.

 

“What?”

 

“How am I supposed to take care of a baby?”

 

“Shouldn’t you have considered that before making one?” Not like she was an expert but, “Or at least before the marriage part?” Babies were generally a symptom of marriage between people with opposing bits.

 

“Shaw, I’m being serious.”

 

“So am I. You actually married his mother, it’s not like you can give the kid back once it gets here.” For starters, that would be a dick move. She was also fairly sure Cole didn’t have nearly enough coin to get away with crap like that. Not that she’d let him, but still.

 

His face was getting all blotchy. He was either going to start yelling or vomit. Cole threw his hands into the air, “I don’t want to give it back!”

 

At least it was yelling. Shaw was in no mood to deal with vomit, and talk of babies. “From what I hear, that’s a good start.”

 

“I don’t know how to do this.” His shoulders slumped. He was going full on kicked puppy now. “We weren’t raised for this.”

 

Damn it, on reconsideration, she’d rather deal with vomit.

 

“No, we were raised to die young, bleeding out in a ditch somewhere.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Cole more than her even. She at least held some memories of her father. The guild had had its hooks in him as long as he could remember. She was surprised he turned out as soft hearted as he had. “Frankly, I think you’ve stumbled into a better alternative.” They both had. Not that she’d say it.

 

“Only because I followed you out of the guild. And then on your random dragon killing scheme.” He frowned. “Maybe you’re the one that should be having a kid.”

 

Shaw cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t do kids.”

 

“I think Gen would argue.”

 

“She came already feeding and bathing herself,” She replied. “Besides, it wasn’t like Gen was a baby we were solely responsible for.” Shaw shivered at the thought. “And if I wanted to have sex with Root we just gave the kid back to her handlers.” Nowadays, Gen might be a bit mouthier but she still ran the opposite direction in disgust if Root so much as reached for Shaw’s ass. Frankly, Cole himself had interrupted them more than Gen.

 

Cole’s shoulders slumped further. “I don’t think I can afford handlers.”

 

“So? Veronica doesn’t seem like the hand them over type.” The woman was kind, if a bit of a busybody. She kept Cole in line. Was a hard worker, and she always knew where the palace cooks hid the extra pastries. She’d actually make a fine mother in Shaw’s opinion. Not that she had much experience with mothers either, mind you.

 

“She’s not.”

 

“So why are you being,” She waved her arm at him, “Like this?”

 

“I don’t know anything about kids.” He began to pace. “What if I mess mine up somehow? It’s all I can think about. About how they’re so tiny and little, and they’ll need me, count on me for everything.” He pulled at his hair, “It’s there in my head over and over. And then I start worrying that I’m thinking about it too much.”

 

“You are.”

 

But he didn’t seem to have heard her. “People generally seem happy about babies. But I’m not happy. Well, I’m happy, but more terrified. And then I’m worried that I’m so terrified that I’m going to mess my kid up and it all starts over again.”

 

Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, it’s not like I have any practice with this sort of thing, but I bet anyone crazy enough to willingly have a kid worries about screwing them up.”

 

He stopped pacing to gape at her. “You do?”

 

“Sure,” She shrugged. “Think about it, it’s only logical to worry about having a little squirmy defenseless whelp depending on you for absolutely everything.”

 

“I’m suddenly back to feeling less than assured.”

 

But she charged right ahead, “You have to look out for the little guy. Make sure he’s safe and supported. Try to keep him from stumbling into trouble. Back him up whenever he does.”

 

“True,” Cole hedged not sure where Shaw was going with this.

 

“You’re good at that.”

 

“I am?”

 

“You always looked out for me.” She smirked. “Let’s face it, I raise enough hell for a legion of kids. After being my shadow what’s one little guy?”

 

“When you put it that way…”

 

“Not so terrifying.” Shaw put a hand on his arm. “And once he can talk and not shit himself; I’ll be glad to teach little Vito how to talk to girls, because we both know, with one exception, you suck at it.” She tilted her head considering something for a beat, “Or boys, whichever. I’m hot, I have a wealth of experience to share either way.”

 

“Please don’t,” He groaned.

 

She shrugged, “Your kid’s loss.” She’d just make the little guy swear not to tell Cole about it when the time came. You couldn’t just throw someone to the wolves without some guidance. “Don’t come crying to me when Vernon is sitting there all alone…”

 

“Michael Jr.”

 

“Please,” Shaw snorted. “We both know who’s head of your household and it isn’t you.”

 

He smiled sheepishly, “I don’t think Veronica would pick Vernon.”

 

“Victor? Val?” She shrugged again. “Whatever, just like the rest of your marriage, follow her lead. I’m sure together the two of you have got this.”

 

Cole was surprised to find that he actually did feel better. “Thanks, Sam.”

 

“Don’t mention it, seriously. Let your poor wife have some peace before the rest of the madhouse descend upon her.” Zoe and Carter tended to get a little disgusting when it came to babies. “Little Vincent is going to be spoiled. I reserve the right to smack you if you let him become a brat.”

 

“You keep saying he,” Cole grinned. “Why are you assuming it’s a boy?”

 

She shook her head, “Because I know you, and god help you if it’s a girl.” Cole would be completely useless, the sap. Shaw cocked her head to the side. Though that would probably be the case boy or girl now that she really thought about it.

 

They talked for a few more minutes about potential names. Shaw made a game of supplying every V one she could think of along the way until she suddenly realized they had been gone for quite a while now. “Shit.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’ve got somewhere to be.”

 

“Can I help?”

 

“Run interference with Root if I’m as late as I think I am?”

 

He held up his hands, “Oh no. You’re on your own with her. I’ve got a kid to think of now.”

 

She grabbed the door handle, “You’re going to milk that for all it’s worth aren’t you?”

 

“You bet your ass,” He chuckled.

 

Shaw shook her head as she stepped out into the hallway. “There you are.” She turned her head to see Root rushing down the hall towards them. Bear trotted along beside her.

 

“Sorry, had to take care of something with Cole.”

 

For once, Root didn’t ask any unnecessary questions. “The speeches have started. Uncle Harry has Talibah distracted. Let’s go.” She gave Shaw a little shove. “Get moving soldier.”

 

Shaw glanced over her shoulder at Cole. “Go get a drink and relax.”

 

“Thanks Sam.” She gave him a two fingered salute and then followed after Root and Bear.

 

They darted down the hallway and up the servant’s stairs. “Do I want to know what that was about?”

 

“Probably not,” Shaw drawled. Root wasn’t exactly big on kids either. “Let’s just say Cole needed a verbal knock upside the head.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Shaw was pretty sure that based on the tone, she wasn’t saying it to her. “She’s telling you right now isn’t she?” How was it that she couldn’t keep any secrets from the damn dragon, but whomever wanted to kill Pierce could?

 

“I didn’t think he had it in him,” Root chuckled in answer.

 

“To be honest, I don’t think he did either.”

 

Root paused at the doorway to the floor where Talibah’s room was located. She slowly eased the door open and peered out. “Looks clear.”

 

Shaw nodded and they swiftly made their way into the hall. Root pushed the door to the proper room open and waved Shaw and Bear inside. The wolf immediately made his way over to the bed. “No shedding on the furniture,” Root instructed. He whimpered as if taking great offense to that statement.

 

“What? She’ll know we were here if there’s fur everywhere.” At that Bear flopped down on his belly by the foot of the bed.

 

“Not that I mind the company,” Shaw drawled, “But why did you bring him?”

 

“His senses are sharper than ours in many respects, Sameen,” Root sagely replied. “Besides we can use all the help we can get the way things have been going lately.”

 

“So true.”

 

Root walked over to the small writing desk under the window. Each of the guest rooms contained one. King Harold made certain the staff kept them stocked with a supply of parchment and ink. The level of ink in the inkwell showed it had been used quite a bit recently. There were a few stray pages here covered with neat script. One page was written in the common tongue. Root picked up another in the same print that was in a very specific dialect used by a tribe in southern Navarra. It was not much known, let alone in written form. Talibah had been educated formally somewhere.

 

But there were no pieces of parchment on the desk that were the proper size for those scrolls. She pulled open the desk’s drawer. Nothing but standard sized, blank parchment.

 

Shaw occupied herself checking the small table next to the bed. There were a few coins. A candle. A half empty bottle of wine. She pulled open its sole drawer. Empty. “I don’t see anything useful over here. You?”

 

“Just some notes on Pierce’s presentation. There is a map of the city here.” Root turned with a large piece of parchment in her hand. “Looks like she drew it herself. The handwriting is the same”

 

“Anything of particular note on it?”

 

“Other than the fact that it’s quite good for someone who isn’t a full time cartographer? Not really,” She sighed. “The wardrobe. She was wearing a robe; low cut, jade green with black embroidery on the sleeves, last night. Check the pockets on the off chance she left the scroll in one of them.”

 

“You really think she would be that careless?”

 

Root pulled open another drawer. This one contained a few spare quills. “No, I really think she tossed that scroll in the nearest fire once she read it, but people’s stupidity continues to shock and delight me on a regular basis.”

 

“Let’s hope she was feeling extra dumb last night.” Shaw turned and nearly tripped over Bear. The wolf had moved while her back was turned and was now halfway under the bed. He whined and jerked his body backwards. She grabbed at his hips and pulled him out, thinking he had gotten stuck somehow.

 

Bear huffed at her and dove under the bed again. “What are you doing big man?” Shaw placed her hands on either side of his rump and attempted to pull him back.

 

He growled.

 

“None of the attitude, handsome. I’m sure whatever it is you’ve got under there; you shouldn’t eat it. This is for your own good.” She tried to pull him out again.

 

“Is this really the best time for the two of you to play a game of tug?”

 

“Tell it to your boy here,” Shaw grumbled. Why was everyone being so obstinate today?

 

Root decided she’d do just that. She put down the map and came around the side of the bed. “Bear. Come!”

 

Knowing a serious order when he heard one, Bear clamped his jaws around his prize and allowed Shaw to pull him out from under the bed once again. “Oh someone’s getting an entire rabbit from the kitchens,” Root clapped. Bear had dragged a long wooden case out from under the bed.

 

She knelt down beside him and thumbed open the latches on the case. She whistled as she raised the lid to reveal its contents. “Now why would anyone ever keep something so lovely hidden under there?” Two swords lay in their scabbards on a bed of emerald silk. She picked one of them up. “I must say the craftsmanship is most impressive.”

 

“Nice.” Shaw agreed. She took the sword from Root and pulled it from its sheath. She held it out in front of her body and gave it a couple of swings. The balance and weight were impeccable. “Someone put a lot of work into these for sure.”

 

“Doesn’t seem very sensible to have such exquisite instruments and not carry them around with you.” Root tilted her head to the side in thought. “You know; I don’t recall seeing her carry any weapons as a matter of fact.” It was strange. Most of the men in attendance at least kept a dagger on their hip.

 

“I don’t think so either.”

 

“Perhaps they were meant as a gift?”

 

“Some gift,” Shaw snorted. She would have charged what would amount to some’s yearly income for one of these blades back in her days running the smithy. She sheathed the sword. “They’re in excellent condition but if you really look there is some wear here on the grip. Kind of poor form to give a used gift.”

 

“More than likely that would be her explanation should they be discovered.” Root took the sword from Shaw and placed it back in the case. “I’m sure they are hers however.” She glanced up at Shaw with a grin. “She has sword calluses on her hands.”

 

“Not to mention the brand she’s hiding on her arm.” Pirates weren’t typically pacifists as a rule.

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. “There’s no maker’s mark. No sigil or design on the sheaths. Nothing about these blades says pirate.” Why hide them?

 

“No, they reflect the apparent wealth of their owner.” Root tapped her fingers against the case. “If I was playing a merchant mixing with this group that is the exact message I’d want to send.”

 

“So why the secrecy?”

 

“They also reflect a certain level of skill. They are exquisitely crafted but the design is utilitarian. No gilding. No filigree on the scabbards. These were meant for an actual fight, not to show off the size of one’s purse.”

 

“She wants to appear harmless and carrying these around would disrupt that image.” Makes sense.

 

“I believe so,” Root nodded. “But she still keeps them close just in case.”

 

“But is it in case something gets started, or in case she starts something?”

 

“That is our mystery.”

 

Shaw stood up and walked over to the wardrobe. She flung the doors open to reveal exactly what you’d expect a wardrobe to be full of. Though the clothes did have one thing of note about them, “Woman likes her green.”

 

“It looks lovely on her with her skin tone.” Shaw turned her head to look at Root with a raised eyebrow. She shrugged, “What? It does.”

 

“Maybe we should just send you in to chat her up?”

 

“Even if I wanted to, I’m afraid she saw firsthand how distraught I was when you went over the side the other day.” Her eyes strayed to the dark bruise just above Shaw’s eye, which spread back and into her hairline. Root had developed the habit after she had ditched her bandages the day before. “She’d never believe I held a prurient interest in anyone else after that.”

 

“Oh.” Shaw didn’t exactly know what to say to that.

 

“I may have caused a bit of a scene.”

 

“Root,” Shaw sighed. “It’s fine. I wasn’t being serious.” She moved the clothes aside until she found the garment she originally had been told to look for. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

“Of course not,” Root scoffed, as she slid the case with the swords back under the bed.

 

Shaw decided to let it go. They had bigger concerns at the moment. The pockets of the robe were empty. She caught a glimpse of the gown Talibah had worn the other day at sea. “You know I’ve been wondering something.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Talibah. She jumped in after me. If she wanted to kill Pierce, why would she do that?” She could have been injured fishing Shaw out of the water. That would have foiled any assassination attempt before it even started.

 

“Currying favor perhaps?” It wasn’t like it was a secret that Shaw was a member of King Harold’s inner circle. She was also popular with the people for obvious reasons. Saving her had made Talibah a star of the court in an instant.

 

“Maybe,” Shaw pursed her lips. She ran the fingers of her left hand across the sleeve of the silk robe. “But that move also came with quite a bit of attention. If you were here to murder the guest of honor, would you really want that many eyes on you?”

 

“Me? No. But then again we’re clearly dealing with amateurs or Pierce would be dead already.” Only a fool would go after him here in the capitol, given his likely company.

 

“Which also proves my point, does Talibah strike you as an amateur?” The only reason why they knew she wasn’t exactly who she claimed to be was because of extraordinary circumstances aligning just so. If Shaw hadn’t noticed the brand? She didn’t know if they would have given the supposed merchant much further thought at all.

 

“A body can be greatly skilled at many things and not be greatly skilled in our art,” Root mused. “But you’re right. She’s up to something here, but it doesn’t feel like murdering Pierce is her objective.”

 

“Just more crap we don’t have an explanation for,” Shaw growled. It felt a bit like they were mired in quicksand. Every move just made the next one more difficult, with no clear way out in sight.

 

_The gathering is wrapping up._

 

Root stood up. “She says they’re finishing up in the garden. We should go.” It wouldn’t do for the Dragon Slayer to be seen leaving a guest’s room when they weren’t present.

 

They met Carter and Reese back in the library. Zoe and King Harold were still entertaining some of the guests. They’d be briefed on their lack of progress later.

 

“How’d it go?” Root asked Carter as she sat down.

 

“For a pirate, she’s extremely knowledgeable about trade routes and the proper market cost of various silks.” She sighed, “If I didn’t know any better I’d say she was every bit the merchant she claimed to be.”

 

“Probably helpful in her actual line of work. One must know where the potential for profit resides.” Root could respect an opponent who had the proper appreciation for good research.

 

“I suppose so.” Carter looked expectantly at them, “What about you two? Did you manage to turn up anything?”

 

“A map and a pair of swords.”

 

“A map of what exactly?” Reese asked.

 

“The city, drawn by Talibah’s own hand if I’m correct.”

 

“Plotting an escape route?” He tensed and then relaxed his jaw, “Or was it meant to show someone the way to another ambush?”

 

Root shrugged, “Nothing was marked to give us a hint either way.” She drummed her fingers against the tabletop. “The only thing I can tell you for sure is that there is no way a map of that size would be sent out by bird. If it is meant for hands other than hers she’d have to hand it off to them face to face.”

 

“The swords you mentioned?” Carter prodded.

 

“Expensive,” She replied. “So we can now confirm that she’s a successful pirate to be able to afford such fine weapons.”

 

“So you’re telling us that once again we have nothing?”

 

Root sighed, “I even told Her Talibah keeping that scroll would be a long shot.” The look in her eyes practically screamed her guilt over not confronting the woman the night before. As if this, another dead end was Root’s fault, instead of that stupid dragon’s for never flat out telling them what they needed to know in the first damn place.

 

“That’s it,” Shaw stood up sending her chair toppling to the floor.

 

“Where are you going?” Carter sputtered.

 

“You people are always all over me to talk. Well, I’m going to talk to Pierce. Its past time he tells us who he thinks wants to do him in.”

 

“Shaw,” Reese hedged. “There’s a reason we haven’t told him.”

 

“Not good enough anymore,” She snapped. “Honestly, do any of you have any better ideas?” She nodded at their silence, “That’s what I thought. It’s past time this idiot was brought into the loop.”

 

Maybe then they could figure this thing out once and for all.


	12. Poppin Bottles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to become clearer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! And there's good (I hope) news!  
> I had originally said when asked that this story would be about 13 chapters. Well once you read this one you might think how is she going to wrap all this up in one more chapter? Well, easy answer is I'm not. I got an idea to add a little more to this installment so we've a few more chapters to go. 3-4 more to be exact...I think. We'll see how it all shakes out.

 

Carter and Reese managed to convince Shaw to let one of them go get Pierce so that they could discuss things with him in private. Reese eventually got that job and Carter went with Root and Shaw to Pierce’s room. They figured it would be better to tell the man that someone was out to get him in a location that had a bed readily available in case he decided to drink himself into a stupor over it.

 

“The man would drink himself into a stupor over a sneezing fit,” Shaw grumbled but stomped down to his assigned guestroom nonetheless.

 

For the most part, Pierce’s room was neat. Shaw had been expecting it to more closely resemble a tap room after a fight to be honest. Her eyes tracked across the room. Everything looked pretty standard. The only signs the room was even in use were a pile of parchment spread across the small table in the corner and a collection of wine bottles ready to be emptied on the bedside stand.

 

“I’m surprised this place isn’t trashed.”

 

“The chambermaids have been extra busy this week,” Carter replied. “From what I’ve heard, King Harold owes them all a raise.” Some people were just nasty. Folk really needed to learn to keep their dirtier habits to their own houses.

 

“I’m sure everyone will be receiving lovely little bonuses for their hard work making the festival a success.”

 

Shaw glanced over at Root, “That include us?”

 

She licked her lips, “Oh I’ll be handling your bonus personally.”

 

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Carter cut in. They were standing far too close to the bed while flirting for her tastes. She’d like to spare herself those nightmares thank you very much. “We’ve still work to do here.”

 

“Can’t do much till John tracks down our wayward idiot,” Shaw grumbled.

 

“Sometimes waiting is working.” Carter settled down in one of the room’s three chairs. There was no way she was going near that bed. Of course that led to the worry that her friends might, despite her presence.

 

But it seemed that at least one of her companions had picked up on her uneasy thoughts. “True.” Root slapped Shaw on the ass. “I’ll add time to your tab to be paid in kind at a later date.” She wandered over to the table. “We might as well snoop a bit while we wait.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

Root smiled, “Why not?” Shaw looked over at Carter and shrugged, clearly agreeing with that sentiment. She ambled over to the side of the bed and squatted down to peer under it.She reached out and lifted the edge of the quilt so she could get a better view. They’d had luck with clues under beds recently.

 

“Be sure to wash your hands later,” Root instructed her. Shaw dropped the quilt as if it were on fire. Root chuckled. She shifted the pile of parchment on the table. A study of knots. Always handy to know. Designs for some sort of mechanical wine cork. Not too surprising given the room’s occupant. A rather impressive pair of breasts. Root tilted her head to the side. She didn’t think she knew the owner of those.

 

“Anything of interest?” Carter asked, semi getting into the spirit of things.

 

Root held up the graphic drawing. “Do you think this poor dear suffers from as much back pain as I think she does?”

 

“Judging by the picture, Lord Pierce just encountered a massive set of tits floating beside the road one day,” Shaw snarked. It wasn’t an entirely unfair assessment given there were no other features sketched out on to the page.

 

“It’s a wonder he escaped unscathed.”

 

“Too bad he wasn’t smothered by an errant nipple,” Carter mused. “Those giant breasts could have saved us all a headache.”

 

Root chuckled at the image. Her eyes found Shaw rifling through a small footlocker across the room. The tops of the knight’s own breasts revealed slightly by her bent position. Root canted her head to the side for a better view. If she had to pick a way to go…

 

“Are we sure our murderer isn’t just time and mass quantities of alcohol?” Shaw asked as she stood up again. “There are seven empties wrapped in a pair of leggings in there.”

 

Root shook herself from her breastly musings. “She assures me the threat is far more imminent than that, Sweetie.”

 

“I just don’t get that,” Carter thought aloud.

 

“What the ravages of time?”

 

“No,” She shook her head. “Pierce. He’s been in attendance for several royal occasions over the years I’ve been a member of the court. He was never this much of a drinker.” He’d socialize. Raise a little bit of hell in a few dockside establishments that catered to young nobles seeking a taste for the exotic, sure. But he was never so far gone to be caught out stumbling around in the middle of the day. His room was never strewn with empty bottles, let alone days upon days of them.

 

“People change,” Shaw shrugged. Some for the better and some for drunken messes.

 

“But why did he?” Carter pressed the issue. Usually such a turn was caused by something. People didn’t just wake up one day and decide to become drunks just because.

 

“Perhaps that’s part of our mystery,” Root mused.

 

Shaw cocked an eyebrow at her tone. “She telling you that?”

 

“No, I’m simply guessing.” She placed the drawings back in the order she had found them on the table. “Of course my guess…”

 

“Is better than many’s certainty,” Carter finished for her. Root might be a bit…extreme at times, but she was quite brilliant. If Pierce wasn’t immediately forthcoming with a possible suspect, then it could be one avenue for them to pursue to narrow their list down from ‘everyone who had ever met the guy.’ “Maybe we should ask him about it.”

 

“If he ever gets here,” Shaw grumbled.

 

“Wait for it,” Root smiled as she took a seat. There was a noise in the hall. The echo of footsteps drawing nearer.

 

“That is still annoying, just so you know,” Shaw groused as she went to perch on the arm of Root’s chair. The door opened, revealing Reese.

 

“You on your own?” Carter asked.

 

“Joey’s bringing him along behind me.” He frowned. “Seems Lord Pierce indulged himself after tea time.”

 

“Great.” Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose. “Is he in any shape to talk?” The sound of singing floated in from down the hall.

 

“You could say that,” Reese replied as he went to lean against the windowsill.

 

“The lady lifted her veil. All the men paled. Twas a face only a mother…” Lord Pierce and Joey appeared in the doorway. “Oh hello!” He waved.

 

“You didn’t mention the additional company, Ser Reese.” Joey guided Lord Pierce over towards the bed. “Hold on to the post.” He physically placed his charge’s hand onto the bedpost and then turned to go and close the door.

 

Lord Pierce glanced around the room. “You all look rather grave.”

 

“We have serious matters to discuss with you, milord,” Carter replied.

 

He blinked at her. “Who died? By the gods, don’t tell me it was me?”

 

“How is it that everyone with a title around here is insane?”

 

Lord Pierce pointed at Shaw. “I like her. Have I mentioned that I like her?”

 

“Too many times,” Root grumbled.

 

“There’s no easy way to tell you this, Lord Pierce,” Carter began, completely ignoring that whole drama. The last thing they needed was Root to maim Pierce in a jealous snit. Best to get to the topic at hand.

 

“I find it easier to simply open your mouth and say whatever it is you have to say in most cases. If it’s truly awful there’s no sense in dragging things out,” He replied. Shaw actually respected that answer.

 

“Someone is trying to kill you.”

 

He laughed. Lord Pierce grabbed his stomach with both hands. Bent half over and laughed until tears pooled at the corners of his eyes. It took him a few moments to realize that no one else was sharing in this grand bit of humor. “Wait, you’re serious?”

 

“Deadly,” Root hummed.

 

“While I’m touched all of you are so concerned with my well-being, the mast falling was an accident. These things happen. I’d hardly call it a plot against me.”

 

“Actually it was,” She corrected him.

 

“Captain Salazar was blackmailed to steal designs from you,” Carter elaborated. “He tampered with the mast to cause a diversion.”

 

“Oh.” Lord Pierce sat down on the foot of his bed. “That’s,” He swallowed, beginning to look a little pale. “Not great.”

 

“If you know all this,” Joey spoke up, “I’m assuming he’s in custody now. So the threat is over.”

 

Root held up a finger. “Not exactly.”

 

“King Harold’s agents are in the process of,” Carter cleared her throat, “Resolving the issue of those that coerced Salazar into acting against you. It will take a few days, but rest assured that matter will be settled.”

 

“It would be best if you didn’t say anything about Salazar in public until it’s handled though,” Reese added.

 

“Okay,” Lord Pierce nodded. At least he was going to be reasonable about that bit. Innocent people could get hurt if one wrong comment got back to Fairisle before Wells and Ser Lee completed their mission. “If that’s the case, then why are you all still looking so grim?”

 

“We have it on the highest authority that someone else wants you dead,” Root answered for the group. “The attack on the caravan the other day? Not directed at King Harold.”

 

“They were there for me? All of them?” He was going from pale to a bit green. Shaw hoped they weren’t going to be in need of a bucket soon. “Even the big one?”

 

“Yeah, we were sort of surprised too.” Shaw crossed her arms over her chest. “So any ideas on who hates you enough to spend that much money to kill you?”

 

Lord Pierce and Joey shared a look. Seems like he did have a thought to share. “He wouldn’t.”

 

“You did threaten him.”

 

“You know exactly why I did.” Pierce rubbed his brow, “And that I wasn’t going to follow through with it.”

 

“Would you boys like to share who he is and whatever it is the both of you did, with the rest of us?” Root asked. “Sounds like it’ll be a delightful yarn.”

 

“Delight is an odd way to put it gentle lady.”

 

Shaw snorted, “The level of cluelessness in that sentence is astounding even for me.” Root slapped her arm. “See?”

 

“Ladies,” Carter’s tone was pure fed up mother. “Let’s focus on the matter at hand.” She turned her attention back to Pierce. “You need to tell us what you know, now before this situation gets worse.”

 

“You want to look into Lord Ogilvie.”

 

“I know that name,” Shaw replied, remembering a conversation she had overheard between some of the servants earlier in the week. “He didn’t show up for the festival.”

 

“That was odd,” Carter noted. Ogilvie was one of the older houses, with that came a certain level of status within the inner circles at court. Lord Ogilvie relished that status. The man tended to strut about the palace like he was the one who owned the place whenever he came to court. He always wore the most current fashions. The most ostentatious jewelry. He’d revel in flaunting his wealth at every turn. He was even more of an attention seeker than Lord Pierce. The pair of them had always crashed through royal events together like a pair of young bulls. “He’s never missed one of these events since his father died and he became head of his household.”

 

Lord Pierce nodded, “It’s because I threatened to turn him in for treason if he came to this one.”

 

“That’s a serious charge.” If true, it could cost Ogilvie his head. Not only would it ruin his name, but that of any found colluding with him. In the very least, the mere suspicion of treason in times such as these, when they were on the tenuous edge of war with Decima, would be a blight on any respectable noble house.

 

“One I do not make lightly.”

 

“What exactly are we talking here?” Shaw asked. “There’s treason and then there’s Treason,” She put extra emphasis on the second treason.

 

“A stain of the highest order, Ser Shaw.”

 

“So he’s a Decima sympathizer?”

 

“More than,” Lord Pierce sighed. “He defied the trade order.” King Harold had banned any trade with Decima or any of its provinces after the incident with Samaritan. That order had been in place for years. Long enough that no one could claim ignorance of it in order to avoid treason charges. “He’s been selling goods to Decima. My designs behind my back mostly. More than that, he’s forwarded information about members of the king’s court on occasion. I have proof.”

 

Ser Reese clenched his jaw. “And you’ve been protecting him?”

 

“Only about the trade,” Lord Pierce held up his hands. “He has some bad habits. Women. Gambling. Needed the money to cover his debts and to ensure his sisters were taken care of. It was never any of my weapons systems. I made certain of that.” He furrowed his brow, “I only recently found out about the other details of his interactions.”

 

“Which you then threatened him with,” Carter frowned, “And Lord Ogilvie knows about this proof you claim to have?”

 

He nodded. “I told him to his face, that I had proof of all his dealings and that I wouldn’t be afraid to let it be known to any that would listen.”

 

“Why? If you had turned a blind eye to it for this long?” Shaw had the feeling that Pierce wasn’t one day suddenly overtaken with a new found sense of patriotism, which drove him to demanding the other noble clean up his messes. There was more to the story, he wasn’t saying just yet.

 

“Because I wanted to hurt him,” He snapped. “I told him if he didn’t withdraw from court then I would turn him over to the Crown’s mercy.” Lord Pierce rubbed his jaw, “We all know what that means for traitors.”

 

“A trial, and if you really do have proof, the headsman’s axe.”

 

He grimaced, “An Ogilvie would never suffer the indignity of a trial. He’d run. Everyone knows what happens to traitors who try and run.”

 

“Root.”

 

“No one escapes her. If I let slip what I knew, he’d be dead within a fortnight.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes as Root vibrated with barely restrained pride beside her. “So he decided to kill you first?”

 

“I wasn’t going to go through with it. I just wanted him to lose something that mattered to him like…”

 

“Like you did,” Root finished for him. She had that faraway look in her eyes again, “He took someone from you. A woman.”

 

Pierce nodded, “Emily. Her family had no standing, but I didn’t care. She made me want to be different, better. My dear friend,” He practically spat the last word. “My friend thought she’d ruin me and thus his ability to funnel my ideas to other nations to line his pockets.”

 

“So he got rid of her.”

 

“Made her father an offer he couldn’t refuse.He fled the village with her in the middle of the night. By the time I knew she was missing, they were halfway across the kingdom. I didn’t find them in time. They took ship in Provenance and she was married to a noble in Kamin within the month.”

 

Lord Pierce stood up. He wrapped his fingers around the neck of one of the bottles of wine from the bedside table before he began to pace the room. “I truly believe he thought that would be the end of it. That Emily was a passing fancy, out of sight out of mind.”

 

“The girl would be gone and you’d get back to work?” Reese supplied.

 

He nodded as he pulled the cork from the bottle with his teeth. He spat it across the room before replying. “Too bad for him instead of throwing myself into my work, I opted to drown in many, many bottles.” He brought the wine to his lips and took a long swallow from the bottle. He grimaced, “This batch has a bit of a kick.”

 

“The wine.” Root snatched it from his hand, stood from her seat, and tossed the bottle into the fireplace. The glass shattered on impact sending purple liquid streaming across the stone floor.

 

Lord Pierce gaped at her. “I admit I have a bit of a problem, but was that really necessary?”

 

“Only if you want to live,” Root replied. “The shipping manifest she had me borrow.”

 

Carter scoffed, “Steal.”

 

“Borrow,” Root corrected. “Zoe and I were able to account for everything except for one cask of wine.” She knelt down next to the mess she had made. “I’m betting that this is from that cask.” She dabbed at the puddle with a handkerchief Joey held out to her.

 

Pierce pointed to the pool of wine oozing across the floor, “That was a bottle.”

 

“Where did you get it?” Root brought the now wine-stained cloth to her nose. She quickly scrunched her face in disgust at the smell wafting from the fabric.

 

“From the table just now. You saw me.”

 

“Wait,” Carter held up a hand, “You didn’t bring it into the room?”

 

“Better question, you drink random bottles of wine you just find lying around?” Shaw drawled.

 

“I thought you lot brought it in; that it was a gift for a job well done,” He explained.

 

“Not to mention he’s a drunk,” Joey added.

 

“Also that.” He smiled as he walked over to his wardrobe. “Which is also why I keep back up bottles for emergencies just like this.” He began to dig through his belongings, sending a few tunics flying through the air. Soon his entire torso was concealed from view as he leaned to reach into the back of the wardrobe.

 

Shaw pursed her lips, “Just like this?”

 

“Bad wine, poisoned wine,” He popped his head back out to squint at her, “Fairly close I’d say.”

 

“And it’s also fair to say the wine was poisoned,” Root added. “The smell, the apparently altered taste…”

 

“Such a crime to ruin good wine,” He grumbled as he renewed his search for a safe source of drink.

 

Figuring Lord Pierce had reached the limits of his cooperation for the moment, Root looked to Joey. “Were those bottles on the table this morning?”

 

“No,” He clenched his jaw. “Just his usual pile of morning empties.”

 

“And you haven’t been back?”

 

“We went down and took a late breakfast in the kitchens after I roused him. Then we met with the Ambassador of the Tree People in the library. We went straight to the garden from there.”

 

“So someone waited until they knew he’d be gone and brought the wine in.”

 

Joey nodded. “The room has clearly been cleaned.”

 

Carter stood up. “You’re not accusing any of our staff are you?”

 

“I don’t know your people well enough to make a specific accusation,” He replied. “All I know is that someone put the wine here between now and then and a maid was clearly in this room during that time.”

 

“We need to know who was in this room and when.” Reese straightened up and walked to the door. “Stay here. I’ll check with the watch.” Guards had been stationed on this hallway all week. No one should have been able to get to this room without being seen by them. 

 

“Ah ha!” Lord Pierce stumbled away from the wardrobe with a fresh bottle in hand.

 

Shaw raised an eyebrow at his actions. “Someone just tried to kill you with wine and your solution is to drink more wine?” What an idiot.

 

“I do believe it is completely acceptable to drink vigorously when one’s former best friend has potentially contracted with various rogues to kill them.” He took a long drink from the bottle to illustrate his point. “Someone gather a book on courtly custom. I am certain it will be there in print.”

 

“You are a sad little man,” Carter rolled her eyes.

 

“A point I do not argue.” He took another drink. “Though I must ask, how does this fall within your theory, mi lady?” Pierce hiccupped, “Oglivie isn’t even here.”

 

“The mercenary group that attacked you after the presentation was paid by courier ahead of time. If you or anyone with knowledge of your schedule told him about it in advance, he didn’t have to be here to send them out,” She explained

 

“Now someone, maybe that same someone, put that wine into the room,” Root added. “You are clearly being watched.”

 

“You’re saying that there’s a man on the inside working for him.”

 

“Obviously,” Shaw snorted.

 

“Betrayal does seem to be a theme in my life lately.”

 

Joey took the bottle from his hand, “And no more of this for you today.”

 

“See?” Lord Pierce groaned.

 

“Ser Reese will bring us our culprit, I’m certain,” Carter assured the men.

 

“If Lord Ogilvie is ultimately behind all this,” Pierce licked a trace of wine from his lip. “What will happen to him?”

 

“Murders are typically executed,” Root answered. “Treasonous ones are executed slowly.” She was rather looking forward to that. She’d never much liked Lord Ogilvie. The man was far too full of himself and tended to treat any women in his purlieu like sport waiting to be hunted and hung on his wall.

 

“But I’m not murdered.”

 

“Only by divine intervention,” She countered. Quite literally.

 

“But…”

 

Carter cut him off, “If Ogilvie is involved, he’ll be arrested. There will be a trial…”

 

“I told you he won’t let it go to trial,” He interrupted her. “At the first hint of scandal he’ll leave. He’s a coward. It’s why he’s not doing his dirty work himself. He’ll run, and I’m afraid he’ll suffer all the more for it.”

 

“You’re awfully concerned about the well-being of a man who seems to have done nothing but wrong by you lately.” Didn’t make much sense to Shaw. But again all these titled types seemed a bit brain addled to her.

 

“We were friends once,” He sighed. “The best of friends I thought. I suppose it’s difficult to truly believe he’s done this, even if I know he’s the most logical explanation.”

 

“He’ll go to trial,” Carter swore. “We won’t let him escape. The Council of Lords and ultimately King Harold will decide his fate from there.” She placed a hand on his arm. “His choices put him into this position. If he had been caught defying the order and selling information any other way? The results would likely have been the same.”

 

“My conscience would have been clearer.”

 

“Listen to Lady Carter, Logan,” Joey told him. “You didn’t harm Lord Ogilvie. Not really.”

 

“I should have found a way to help him when I discovered his debts. Maybe we could have avoided this, Emily, everything…”

 

“You can’t spend your life babysitting your friends,” Shaw grumbled. Despite Joey’s current occupation. And hers for that matter. Somedays it did feel like she was babysitting the entire kingdom. Though not the point she was attempting to make here. “He’s an adult, he made his own choices. When someone chooses to commit treason and seek out incompetent murderers for hire there are consequences.”

 

Usually her boot in their ass for starters.

 

Before Lord Pierce could reply a grim faced Ser Reese came back into the room. “Well?” Shaw asked as it seemed he wasn’t going to just tell them what he’d found out on his own.

 

He looked at Pierce. “Two of the chambermaids cleaned your room around midday.”

 

“Two?” Joey asked.

 

“Seems more than one set of hands is required to remove all the empty wine bottles.” Pierce dipped his head at that, perhaps finding a modicum of shame. “The guard positioned at the end of the hall confirmed that neither was carrying any bottles going in.” He held up a hand to cut off Joey just as he opened his mouth to say something. “Before you ask, all they brought in were fresh linens, and not enough of those to conceal all of the full bottles now in the room without the guard noticing.”

 

“If the maids didn’t bring them in, did you gain any insight as to who did?”

 

That question made Reese look even more uncomfortable. “The guard said your man was the only other person to step in to the hall until Ser Shaw came charging down here.”

 

Joey spoke up, “I just told you, I’ve been with him since he left the room this morning.”

 

“Not you.” Reese glanced over at Carter. His jaw clenched.

 

“John, what…” She started to ask. There was a peculiar look in his eyes.

 

He shook his head and turned his attention back to Pierce. “How well do you know Ian?”


	13. Home To Roost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Answers and a rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo lord I am sorry you guys. I honestly did not intend to take this long to post this chapter. But life, a certain video game and my decision to rework a few things to set up a few others put me in a bit of a tizzy (If its any consolation this is another jumbo sized chapter).

 

Carter smiled as Ian stepped into the library. “Thank you for meeting me here. I know it’s a bit odd.” She gestured at the stacks spread out to either side of the large table she was seated at in the center of the cavernous space. The early evening sun caused them to cast their shadows across the room.

 

“A beautiful woman wants to spend some time with me?” He shrugged, as he walked closer. “The location she chooses is the least of my concerns.

 

Carter pointed to the seat just across from hers. “Things have been a bit hectic today. King Harold has dinner with some of the ambassadors and a few select guests, and then additional meetings scheduled for later tonight. I have to prep for everything, but I wanted to see you. This was the best compromise I could think of.”

 

“I’m honored you’d place any thought in my direction.”

 

“Well, you’re very pretty,” Carter teased.

 

“I’m so very glad you noticed, milady.” Ian settled into the seat.

 

“Would you like a drink?” She gestured to a tray sitting on the table by her elbow. There was bottle of wine and two goblets resting on it.

 

He glanced around as if they were being watched. “Should we be doing that in a library?” His voice was hushed. After a breath, Ian smirked. “I’m willing to risk it for you, but aren’t there rules about having food around the books?”

 

“Oh I think I could be convinced to bend all sorts of rules this evening.”

 

“Now, I’m intrigued.”

 

She raised an eyebrow at that. “Just now?”

 

“Since I met you. I’d love a drink.” He leaned forward, “And anything else you might deem me worth of receiving.”

 

“We’ll see about that after the drinks.” Carter uncorked the bottle and filled the goblets. “It was most generous of Lord Pierce to share this with members of the court, don’t you think?”

 

His left eye twitched. If she hadn’t been carefully watching for his response to her question, she might have overlooked it. “Lord Pierce gave you that wine?”

 

Carter swallowed her disappointment and carried on. “Yes, he gave it to me after the tea this afternoon. This is the first opportunity I’ve had to indulge.” She pulled one goblet to her side of the table and scooted the other towards him. “I’m sure he knows his wine.”

 

“Uh y-yes,” He swallowed. “Did he say where he got it from?”

 

“He had it in his room,” She shrugged. She picked up her goblet and swirled the wine in the cup. Ian’s eyes tracked her every move. She brought the goblet to her lips. His breath caught, but to her increasing frustration, he didn’t speak.

 

Carter lowered the cup without taking a drink. “What are you waiting for? Have a taste, Ian.”

 

“I’m fine.” He coughed. “Actually, I’m a bit hungry.” He stood up, “How about we let that breathe for a bit and go down to the kitchens for a snack?”

 

“Oh I already told them to send something up. Should be here any minute.” She pushed his goblet closer to him. “Take a drink, while we wait.”

 

He took a half step back from the table. “What did you request? Quality wine is a finicky thing. The wrong pairing would ruin the experience for you. We should go make sure the food is complementary. I have some cheese in my room that would be excellent with this vintage.”

 

“Rats and cheese. Perfect with poisons,” Root quipped as she appeared from the shadows behind him. Carter frowned, took her long enough.

 

Ian spun around. “What?”

 

She nodded towards the table. “Why don’t you admit the real reason you’re so hesitant to take a little sip?”

 

“I don’t…” He tried to walk around her. Root made sure he didn’t get behind her but allowed him to shuffle over towards the stacks to his left. “What are you trying to say?”

 

“She’s saying that we know you tried to poison Lord Pierce,” Shaw replied stepping into his path. She pointed her sword at his chest. “Just so you know, I prefer a more direct approach.” Ian glanced around wildly looking for a path to escape. Root was blocking the way towards the doors he’d entered through, Lord Pierce and Joey seemingly appearing out of nowhere to stand behind her. Carter and now Ser Reese were on the opposite side of the table. He’d never get through the two of them to the north entrance to the library.

 

Which left Shaw and the door he knew to be about ten paces behind her.

 

He looked down at the sword that was dangerously close to his heart. He swallowed. His eyes told Shaw that he was entertaining the stupid notion that maybe he could knock it aside. Shaw pressed the tip of the blade against his sternum. “And if you don’t take a seat, you’re going to learn exactly how direct I can be.”

 

Ian held up his hands and nodded. When he was seated once again he asked, “What’s this all about?”

 

Trying to play dumb. Shaw rolled her eyes. So predictable. So pointless.

 

“Oh I think you know, Ian,” Root replied. She was examining the fingernails of her left hand. “You’ve been playing some nasty tricks.” She glanced up at him with a wicked grin, “Typically, I’m all for that sort of thing but when my friends might fall victim to such tactics, it makes me quite cross.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Shaw groaned. She poked his shoulder with the tip of her sword. “This is going to take all day. Just let me beat it out of him.” She doubted that would take long at all. Three minutes, maximum.

 

“Put the sword away Shaw,” Reese grumbled.

 

“Fine.” She did as she was told. “But I reserve the right to punch you when we’re late for dinner.” Root pat her on the arm. She shrugged away. She wasn’t kidding about dinner.

 

“Where’d you get the wine?” Carter asked bringing the focus back to Ian’s treacherous actions.

 

“I picked it up downstairs. Someone said it was for Lord Pierce.”

 

“Who said?” She pressed.

 

“One of the servants.”

 

“Which one?”

 

“I-I don’t know.” He rubbed his face. “There are so many flittering about.” There was a noticeable tremor in his hand as he laid it back down on the table. “Someone said the wine was for my master so I picked it up to bring it to his room. I didn’t bother asking the name of the one who told me. Why would I?”

 

Reese crossed his arms over his chest. “Even if that were true it wouldn’t explain your reaction when Carter told you where this bottle came from.”

 

The shaking in his hand grew. “I was hungry. I wanted food.”

 

“This guy is so full of shit, I’m surprised he hasn’t burst from it,” Shaw grumbled. She kicked the leg of his chair. Ian lurched forward with a yelp. “If you honestly think we’re this stupid…”

 

“I had to,” He cried out. “He has my son.”

 

And now they were getting somewhere. Carter leaned across the table, “Who has your son?”

 

Here comes the confirmation they need to end this.

 

“Lord Wellington.”

 

Wait what?

 

If that answer threw Carter she didn’t show any sign of it. “Ian, tell us what’s going on so we can help you.”

 

“Or kill you,” Root added. Carter glared at her. “What? He should know that’s in the cards by now.”

 

“I wasn’t confused about that,” Ian sighed. He brought his hands up and across the lower half of his face as if he might break into prayer at any moment. Not a bad notion, all things considered.

 

“Look at me,” Carter instructed him. “Start at the beginning.”

 

“Her name was Dana.”

 

“Wasn’t that Lord Wellington’s youngest daughter’s name?” Carter tilted her head in thought. He had two. If she remembered correctly his youngest had passed away not that long ago. Sleeping sickness. Very tragic.

 

“Beautiful girl,” Lord Pierce noted. He quickly held up his hands, “Not that I went there.”

 

“She was,” Ian nodded. “I did.”

 

“Okay number one, that’s incredibly boorish and if the two of you keep talking that way you’re going to get stabbed,” Carter scolded them both. “And two how? You’re not a member of court and I can’t see Lord Wellington letting you anywhere near either of his daughters.”

 

“You’re right. It’s why I’m in this mess.”

 

“So keep talking and maybe we can get you out of it,” Reese grumbled.

 

“Dana and I, we met when I came to Lord Wellington’s estate as a tutor.”

 

“Someone hired you as a tutor for his daughter? Seriously?” The ‘what a dumb ass’ at the end of Shaw’s statement was implied by her tone. You didn’t hire handsome young tutors for your unmarried daughters. That was just asking for trouble of the bastard variety.

 

“For his eldest daughter’s firstborn son actually,” Ian replied, unbothered by her tone or its implications. “Dana adored her nephew, and so our paths crossed quite frequently. I don’t know how an ass like Wellington ever raised someone so good and kind. We fell in love.”

 

He swallowed. “We knew her father would never give her hand to the help. Our love would be short lived once an appropriate suitor came to call. But we carried on anyway. It was good. We were happy. Then Dana became with child.”

 

Shaw snorted. Like it just magically happened. She shook her head. Idiots.

 

“We knew we had to run. She was terrified of her father, but Dana gathered what jewelry and little trinkets she could. Along with what I had saved of my paltry salary, it was enough for us to book passage on a ship. I took her across the sea, back to my homeland. I figured Wellington’s reach didn’t extend that far.”

 

“We settled in a village three days ride from the cost that I had briefly lived in when I was a child. It was a good place for families, there was plenty of work and food as the village was known for its crockery. The money we received from selling Dana’s jewelry was enough to buy two horses and to outfit a small cottage on the outskirts of town.”

 

Carter rubbed at her temples, “Don’t tell me you sold the jewelry on that side of the sea?”

 

“No,” He shook his head. “That was one mistake I managed not to make.” He gnawed on his bottom lip. “Not that it helped in the end.”

 

“What happened to Dana and the baby?”

 

“We were happy in the village. Dana eventually gave birth to my son.” He smiled, “I couldn’t believe I had a son. We named him Alexander, Alex for short.” He glanced up at them, “You know, after the stories.”

 

“The gallant knight who crossed the mountains to find new lands to feed his people after a great famine,” Root explained. She turned to him, “Not everyone in the north is familiar with the story. But it’s a fine name.”

 

He nodded, “For a fine boy.” After a moment he carried on with his tale. “I had found work with a merchant as an interpreter and a negotiator.”

 

“You used that experience to get the job with Lord Pierce,” Joey noted aloud.

 

“I was good at it, but it required I do some traveling on occasion. The village we lived in was safe. Dana wasn’t concerned with my being gone for a week or two at a time as long as I came back in one piece. It was just after harvest time, I had to leave for one last trip before the winter rains came. Dana saw me off as always.”

 

His eyes grew soft, “I’ll never forget the sight of her holding Alex in the doorway of our cottage. The way the morning sunlight reflected on her hair. The sound of his laugh.” He shook himself. “It was the first and only time I had left them since Alex’s birth. When I came back a week later the cottage was in ashes.”

 

Ian took a shuddering breath. He looked to be on the verge of tears. “The village elder told me that Dana and my son had died in a fire. He showed me their graves. They were gone. I was all alone.”

 

Carter reached out and placed her hand on his arm, “I’m sorry, Ian.”

 

“Doesn’t exactly explain how we got here though,” Shaw pointed out. What reason would he have to do Wellington’s dirty work if his kid was dead? From the story so far they weren’t exactly the best of friends before everything with the daughter. “You said he has your son but you just told us the boy died.”

 

“Long story short?” Not short enough, in Shaw’s opinion. “I should have asked more questions. But I left the village instead. I drifted from place to place for a couple of years until something drew me back to Thornhill.”

 

“And that’s when I found you?” Lord Pierce asked.

 

Ian nodded, “I didn’t take the job with you with ill intentions. But two months ago Lord Wellington approached me.”

 

“That would have been just after you threatened Ogilvie,” Joey pointed out to Pierce.

 

“He said you were a threat to his family and as I had a vested interest in his line continuing in good standing with the court, that it was my duty to assist him.”

 

“That doesn’t make sense,” Carter frowned. “You took off with his daughter. You embarrassed his family whether it was well known outside of his household or not.”

 

“Exactly,” Ian replied. “I told him he was full of shit. That I wanted nothing to do with him or his family.” He averted his eyes, “Then he told me about Alex.”

 

“That he was alive after all?” Carter led.

 

“Yes. Seems the fire wasn’t an accident. Or it was but not a natural one. Wellington had found us. Sent some of his men to collect Dana. Something went wrong...”

 

“She died but the baby survived. They took him back to Wellington,” Carter finished for him. “He was still responsible for your wife’s death. Why help him?”

 

“Because he said he would let me back into his household so I could be with Alex.”

 

“Not to be indelicate,” Reese cleared his throat. Shaw could tell Root was holding back a pithy comment from the way she swayed beside her. “But how do you know for sure that Wellington is telling the truth about Alex?” Not a bad question. Who was to say the conniving bastard wasn’t lying about having the kid?

 

“I’ve seen him. Twice. Once when he approached me the first time as proof of his story and the second time the other night during the bonfire to make sure I’d follow through with planting the wine.”

 

“And you’re sure it’s him?” Reese pressed. Again good question. Just because he had a kid hanging around for show, didn’t mean that it was Ian’s kid. Was this a case of the guy wanting to believe his son was alive so badly that he was able to be tricked?

 

“It’s Alex. He looks just like Dana except he has my eyes. His laugh is just the same.” Ian smiled. “Wellington couldn’t fake that with all the magic in the world.”

 

Root opened her mouth to correct him but Shaw elbowed her in the side. “I doubt he has half of half the magical knowledge that you do,” She whispered before Root could scold her or attempt to argue further. There were only so many people in the world that could pull that sort of glamor off. Shaw highly doubted Wellington had hired any of them. “There’s no way, I’m sure you know who can confirm if you doubt it.” Root’s eyes went slightly unfocused as if She were doing just that. Shaw turned her attention back to the real matter at hand.

 

Ian had kept on talking while they had their little interaction. “Dana and my boy were all I had in the world. She’s never coming back but, Alex.” He looked down at the tabletop. “What Wellington wanted me to do was wrong, but my son is the only piece of her left. She always said Alex was the best thing she had ever done, and I can’t let Wellington ruin him.”

 

Lord Pierce cleared his throat, “Why didn’t you tell me when Lord Wellington came to you? We could have avoided all this. I would have helped you.”

 

“When? How?” Now he sounded bitter. “You’re stumbling about the countryside drunk out of your mind half the time these days.”

 

“You knew me before all that. You knew I had resources…”

 

Ian slammed his palm against the table top, “And I knew that my son was dead for three years. Do you understand what it was like for me to discover what I thought was an absolute certainty wasn’t so certain?”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“We all are,” Carter gently added. It didn’t make what the man had tried to do right. But his motives were understandable.

 

“But why does Wellington care what happens to Ogilvie?” Shaw cut in. She didn’t get it. While she totally bought that the pompous ass would be willing to blackmail a man to murder a rival, there was no reason she could see for him to see Lord Pierce in that light.

 

“Lord Wellington’s second wife is Lord Ogilvie’s mother’s sister.” King Harold appeared beside Reese. He must have entered the library through one of the hidden passages. Zoe was just behind him. “Any scandal on the Ogilvie family would be bound to fall upon him as well.”

 

“Or his hands are dirty too,” Reese suggested.

 

“Perhaps. Lord Wellington always struck me as overly concerned with his fortunes. Either way, if Lord Pierce made good on his threat Lord Wellington would suffer.”

 

“So it’s highly likely that the greedy son of a bitch got involved to cover his own ass?”

 

“Not to put it so bluntly, Ser Shaw, but yes.”

 

Zoe cut in, “And after the insult of his youngest daughter running off with Ian here…”

 

“I imagine he would be desperate to squash any rumors of impropriety on the part of his nephew,” The king nodded. “If he managed to tie the crime to the young man who embarrassed him in the process…”

 

“Blessings upon blessings,” Root finished. “How adorably ruthless and elaborate.” Ian gaped at her. She shrugged, “Well, it is.”

 

“I think we have enough to arrest Lord Wellington.”

 

Ian stood up so quickly that his chair flew from behind him and struck Lord Pierce at the knees. Joey moved to pick him up from the floor as Ian shouted, “You can’t arrest him. He’ll kill my son!”

 

King Harold held out a hand in a gesture for the young man to calm himself. “Do you honestly believe he’d harm his own blood?”

 

“To avoid scandal? Yes. After Dana? Absolutely.”

 

“So what do we do now?” Zoe asked.

 

“We go get the kid so Carter can be free to arrest that jackass.” Everyone turned to look at Shaw. “You said he let you see the boy the other night, which means he’s nearby.”

 

“Yes, he’s keeping him somewhere in the city.”

 

“Most likely in his manor. Wellington hasn’t been staying in the palace,” Carter explained to the group. “He declined the offer stating he’d be more comfortable in his property just outside the capitol.”

 

“This will be easy,” Shaw noted. “We’ll bring Wellington here. Distract him with something shiny. Then we go there, snatch the kid back, and once he’s safe Carter can clap Wellington’s ass in irons front of all the other snobs.”

 

“That plan is a little basic, Sweetie but I admire your enthusiasm.”

 

Shaw waved her off. “We can work out the finer details after I’ve had a snack.” She planned better on a full stomach. They all knew this.

 

King Harold nodded. “We’ll host an impromptu dinner.”

 

Wasn’t that hospitable of him? The festival must have put him in a giving mood. But they did apparently have a kid to save. Probably shouldn’t dawdle. “Seriously, don’t go to the trouble. Bit of meat. Slice of bread. I’ll be good to go.”

 

“Yes, erm the dinner would be the distraction you mentioned, Ser Shaw. We could even have Lord Pierce fall ill so to speak in the middle of the event.”

 

“Wellington would likely stick around to see for himself that the job was done.” Lord Pierce grinned at the prospect, “That’s brilliant.”

 

There was a wry smile on King Harold’s face. “I do have my moments.”

 

Just after sundown, Shaw set out from the capitol. Wellington’s property was a little over an hours ride from the outer walls. She, Root, and Reese had been given the task of finding the boy. They had each departed from a different gate at staggered times as not to alert anyone to the king’s men setting out on a mission together.

 

The manor was nestled within the foothills of the Brookline mountains just north of the city. Shaw eased Razgovor off the road as farmland gave way to wooded terrain. She found a game path and the pair weaved their way through the trees until they reached a small rise overlooking the manor itself.

 

Shaw dismounted and lashed Razgovor’s reins to a tree. “Be back soon,” She said as she gave the war horse a pat on the rump. She received a grunt in reply.

 

She followed another trail through the underbrush until she reached the crest of the hill. When she looked down she had a clear view of the manor and the large wall that circled it. And the guards that patrolled that. “Talk about paranoid,” She muttered to herself.

 

“We both know he’s got reason to be,” Reese said stepping out from another break in the tree line. “We are out to get him,” He smirked as he came to stand beside her.

 

“Brought it on himself.”

 

“No question.”

 

Shaw looked around. “Where’s Root?” She had left before Shaw, should have been here by now.

 

Reese shrugged, “Haven’t seen her.” He glanced over at her and smirked. “I’m sure she’ll find you soon enough.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” She rolled her eyes. “Have you even bothered to look around? Or were you too busy brooding?”

 

He pointed to the structure below. “Once we’re over the wall, there are four entrances from what I can see. Front, four guards there. Back by the kitchens, no guards but plenty of servants to raise an alarm. Terrace backing up to the rose garden, two guards there. Cellar door on the north side, unguarded.”

 

The choice seemed obvious to her. “So we go through the cellar.”

 

“You’d think that.”

 

Who was he trying to be with the cryptic answers, Root? If he started up with the innuendos she was going to put a knife in him. “Because you told me there weren’t any guards or witnesses there.”

 

“But there is a lock,” He gestured towards the wall circling the building. “If it takes any time at all to break, you run the risk of being spotted by the men on the walls.”

 

Not ideal. They wanted to get in and have enough time to find the boy before any warning could be raised. “So the terrace then.”

 

“Seems to be the path of the least resistance.” They could time their entry between patrols on the wall. Slip over to the area by the terrace, take out the guards and search before any alarm could be raised. In fact, “Looks like they’re changing the guard.”

 

“We should take advantage.” Root would just have to catch up. Shaw nodded to the wall. “Wait for the first shift to leave, then up and over the wall, and put the guards down.”

 

“Should buy us plenty of time to search before anyone will be around to notice there’s something wrong.” He stood up and began to circle around the property. Shaw followed.

 

They crouched down in the underbrush and waited for a sentry to complete his turn on the section of the wall they needed to go over. Shaw was glad that it was a cloudy night. Had the full moon been completely bare the light would have easily revealed them to the man walking above.

 

“I’ll boost you up first and then you can help me up,” Reese told her in a low grumble.

 

She nodded. It was their best bet for getting up and over quickly. Once the guard was out of sight, they stepped out into the strip of open grass between the trees and the wall. Shaw rolled her shoulders. Reese winced when he heard an audible pop. Shaw continued to swing her arms back and forth completely unbothered.

 

Reese shook his head. He walked over to the base of the wall. He laced his fingers together and held his clasped hands out to her palms up. Shaw nodded and backed up a few steps. She took a deep breath and then came at Reese at a full sprint. She leapt forward planting her right foot into his clasped hands and he launched her into the air.

 

Shaw was just able to grab the top of the wall with her outstretched hand. She swung her body and was able to reach up with her other arm as well. Then it was a simple matter of hoisting herself up on top of the wall. Once settled she looked both ways to make certain she hadn’t been seen. Confirming things were clear, she laid down on her belly and stretched her arms back over the side.

 

Reese backed up a fair bit and, with a nod from Shaw, ran full speed at the wall. He jumped up and caught Shaw’s outstretched hands. With a grunt she began to pull him up. “Maybe lay off the tea cakes.”

 

He grinned at her once he was settled on top of the wall, “Oh that’s rich coming from you.”

 

She didn’t reply. Opting instead to drop over the other side. “Shaw,” He hissed. She could seriously injure herself falling from that height. Was she mad?

 

Wait, stupid question.

 

Reese scrambled to the side. When he looked down Shaw was looking up at him from the top of a hay bale. “How did you know that was there?”

 

“I’m just that good.”

 

He scoffed at her smug reply and then dropped over the side and into the hay himself. “We need to get invisible.” They concealed themselves in the shadow of the wall. Then they worked their way down and around the property until the terrace was in view. Conveniently, the terrace overlooked a small garden. Reese and Shaw ducked behind a row of rose bushes.

 

Apparently, there were guards walking the perimeter inside of the wall as well as the terrace guards were speaking with another man. Their position afforded them a clear view up to the terrace but the men were up enough of a slope that their view of the garden was slightly obscured. Reese and Shaw watched the trio for a few minutes until the third man turned away and walked towards the back of the house.

 

Shaw pointed two fingers at her eyes and then pointed at the guards, then she closed her fist and rapidly flashed her five fingers. Reese nodded his head, message received. They’d wait here a few moments to be certain the patrol was long gone before going in.

 

Once the allotted time had passed Reese whispered, “Separate them. Lead them to cover and take them out quickly.”

 

Shaw picked up a fallen branch and snapped it over her knee. The crack echoed off the walls. They watched the two guard’s jerk and begin to look around. One clearly gestured to their side of the garden and when the other nodded, he began walking towards them. Shaw smirked at Reese.

 

These morons made it far too easy.

 

The guard was tall, a good hand taller than Reese. Thickly muscled too. But he was clumsy. His gate was unsteady as he picked his way between the shrubs as he walked deeper into the garden and drew closer to their position.

 

Shaw held her breath as the guard came closer and closer. When he was practically on top of them, and conveniently out of his partner’s line of sight, Reese stuck out his leg. The guard tripped. His head struck the ground hard, leaving him in a daze. They were fortunate that he didn’t make a sound.

 

Shaw was on him in an instant. Arm around his throat, opposite hand over his mouth, knees firmly in his back. He clawed at Shaw’s arm but she had all the leverage.

 

When the guard finally stopped struggling, Reese tapped her on the side. “Enough.”

 

Shaw released him with a grunt. Reese knelt beside him and took his arm so that he could bind his hands. “Be less risky if we put him down,” She noted.

 

“We don’t kill, if we can incapacitate,” He grumbled. It wasn’t the first time they had had this very argument. Most likely wouldn’t be the last. He finished tying off a knot and turned to look at her. “Unless you don’t think you did a good enough job knocking him out?”

 

“Please,” She scoffed. “I’m just saying leaving him here could come back to bite us.”

 

The guard’s arms were now secured behind his back. “I’ll gag him for good measure.” Reese produced a handkerchief from his belt to do just that.

 

Shaw scowled. For the guard’s sake she hoped Reese had cleaned that thing recently. Because if not, killing the guy would really be a kindness. “Don’t come crying to me if he shambles out of here and wakes the entire house.”

 

“Noted,” He replied, as he stuffed the fabric into the guard’s mouth. That task complete, Reese nodded towards the terrace. “You want the other one?”

 

“Why? You tired already?”

 

“Just trying to be polite.”

 

“Sometimes, you take this knight thing way too seriously.”

 

“And I’ll take that as a no.” He set off towards the building. Shaw smirked as she trailed behind him.

 

The other guard was easy enough to dispatch. They bound and gagged him as well and dumped him in the shrubbery next to his partner. Reese hesitated a moment when he had his hand on the door handle leading into the house.

 

“We don’t know how many men may be inside. So we play this quick and quiet. Don’t do anything that would bring unnecessary attention.”

 

Shaw wanted to roll her eyes but nodded instead.

 

Reese slowly pulled open the door. The pair of them slipped inside. What they found caused her to glare over at Reese, “You were saying?”

 

A group of men were gathered around two tables on the opposite side of the room from where they stood. They apparently had interrupted a card game of some sort. “Evening,” Reese greeted. A few of the men rose from their seats with angry shouts.

 

Reese looked between the group and Shaw. “You take the six on the left?” He suggested.

 

That left four for him. Granted, one of the men on the right was easily the size of three men. “Let me know if you need any help with the big one,” She smirked.

 

He cracked his neck. “I think I can handle it.”

 

He probably could. Shaw slipped a hand down her side. Still, why fight at a disadvantage when you didn’t have to? Stealth had already flown out the window. She plucked a vial from its place on her belt and tossed it at the now charging men. When the glass shattered, plumes of smoke began to spiral across the room.

 

“And what if I wanted a fair fight?” Reese quipped as he drew his sword.

 

“Then you’re an idiot.” Within seconds the opposite side of the room was completely consumed by a cloud of thick, gray smoke. She’d have to let Root know that her new smoke bomb formula was a definite keeper.

 

One guard broke through the smoke and came at Shaw at a run. Shaw drew her own sword with one hand and her trail knife with the other. This was about to get bloody. 

 

She dodged his charge and kicked the back of his knee as he stumbled past. His leg buckled, sending him crashing towards the ground. No time for subtlety, when in a room full of enemies, she followed him down. Then she drew her knife across his throat as she raised her sword with her other hand and blocked a strike coming from overhead.

 

She brought her knife up and jammed it into her new opponent’s thigh. He cried out and stumbled backwards. Shaw took the opening his flailing gave her to stand up. Her lips curled in a wicked semblance of a smile; she had needed a good workout.

 

It wasn’t very quiet, but the fight was over quickly. Turns out two of the men had passed out from a combination of too much drink and the smoke before they had even drawn their swords. Shaw had made fast work of the four that had rushed her. Reese took down three on his own, but had ended up needing a bit of a hand with the big fella.

 

“You clear the top floor and work your way down,” He panted as he stood bent half over. He had taken a hard hit to his ribs before Shaw had broken an end table over the big one’s head. “I’ll clean up a bit after our friends here, and then work my way up to you.”

 

She didn’t see the point of trying to hide the bodies at this point. “You really think the entire house didn’t hear all that just now?” Let alone smell the smoke. More men would probably be charging in at them at any moment. They hadn’t been exactly subtle with their entrance.

 

He shrugged, “Some people are heavy sleepers.”

 

“Oh sure,” Shaw drawled. “But most people would have to be dead to miss our entrance just now.” She slid the door open and peered out into the hallway. Everything looked clear, if a little hazy from the smoke. But in her experience once a job started to go screwy, it continued on that course.

 

“All the more reason to split up,” Reese replied. “We need to find the boy before they find us again.”

 

“Fine.” Couldn’t really argue that logic. Shaw started through the doorway.

 

“But if there does happen to be any trouble…” He began. She stopped walking and turned to look at him. “We get Ian’s kid out of here no matter what.”

 

Shaw nodded. That had been her plan all along. But if it helped Reese to say it, far be it for her to argue about it. She stepped out into the hallway before he could say more.

 

The stairs weren’t far from their entry point. Shaw’s eyes scanned the area around her as she crept her way forward. The walls were lined with portraits of various members of the Wellington clan. They shared the same round face, the men each had the added detail of a similar receding hairline. Shaw snorted at a study of the current Lord Wellington slaying a dragon, which hung over the first floor landing. She scoffed. “Can we say delusions of grandeur?”

 

Shaw kept her tread light on the stairs. The last thing she wanted was a squeaky floorboard giving her position away. She still thought it odd that no additional guards had come to investigate. Of course maybe Wellington had simply hired incredibly incompetent guards. She had reached the landing on the third floor before she determined a possible reason for the lack of response to the commotion she and Reese had caused downstairs.

 

Or in other words she found Root.

 

As had the guards. There were two men on the ground just behind Root. She was trading strikes with a third while another man circled around the pair of them looking for an opening to attack. When the fight brought them fully in to the circle of light from a wall-mounted oil lamp, Shaw noticed that Root’s right arm was bleeding.

 

She snarled. Shaw was rushing headlong into the fray before she could think any better of it. She took the man circling Root’s right side out at the knees with a slide.

 

“Hey, Sweetie.”

 

Shaw grunted in reply. She scrambled up and hit her man in the face with the hilt of her sword before he could fully recover from his fall. There was a crack as the bones of his nose crumpled under the force of her blow. His eyes rolled back and he went limp. The corner of her lips ticked up the slightest bit in satisfaction. That one wouldn’t be getting back up for a while.

 

When Shaw turned her head to check on Root, she saw that the other guard was now also flat on his back. Root was standing over him. She smiled when she caught Shaw looking at them.

 

“What took you?”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “Some of us still do these things the normal way.” She stood and stepped to Root’s side.

 

“How quaint.” She reached out a rubbed a bit of blood from Shaw’s cheek with her thumb. “You should have gone through the cellar.”

 

Of course. Not like that knowledge wouldn’t have been helpful about half an hour ago, but whatever. “How about a thank you for saving your ass just now?”

 

Root shrugged. And then in completely Root-like fashion switched to a different topic entirely. “Where’s the bridge troll?”

 

“Cleaning up on the main floor.”

 

“How accommodating of him,” She smirked. “Attic is clear. I was just about to begin checking the bedrooms when these fellows decided they wanted to play.”

 

These four, the men outside, and all those guards in the terrace room, Shaw scowled, “Just how many guards does this asshole employ?”

 

“More than enough to imply a guilty conscience.”

 

“Or that he’s self-aware enough to realize assholes like him tend to get gutted?”

 

“Or that,” Root agreed. Shaw was certain she wouldn’t mind doing the honors. Maybe they could volunteer officially for the job, once they had the proof of Wellington’s treason in hand so to speak. “He must pay them well enough. One of this bunch managed to clip me before you got here.”

 

“I noticed,” Shaw grumbled.

 

She turned her shoulder so that she could peer down at the wound. “It’s just a scratch.”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“Doesn’t even require binding,” Root tried to assure her.

 

“How’s the ear?”

 

“Still non-functioning.” At Shaw’s unimpressed glare she added, “Don’t fret so, Sweetie. She’s watching that side for me.”

 

Now Shaw could remind her just how mercurial that damn dragon’s assistance could be, or she could point out that the only apparent wound Root had sustained was on that very side. Or even that having a god in her head didn’t make Root herself invincible. Any of those points would serve Shaw’s argument quite well. But they really didn’t have all night. “How about I do that the rest of the way?”

 

And there she went the soppy eyes. “I’d love nothing better.” Root gestured to the two unconscious men at their feet. “We should probably stash these two somewhere out of the way first.”

 

Another matter they didn’t have time to argue over. “Pick a door, any door.”

 

“Searching and stashing at the same time,” Root chuckled. “You’re so smart.”

 

Shaw grunted as she picked up the man Root had dispatched last. “Just go open a door.”

 

After they hid the bodies, the pair systematically made their way down the hall checking each bedroom as they went. Eventually, they ended up at the opposite end from the stairs. They had four rooms left to check when Root signaled for Shaw to stop walking.

 

“This is the one.” Root held a finger up to her lips. Now that she was close, Shaw could hear voices coming from behind the door. She opened her mouth to ask Root what their play should be when the woman shhh-ed her.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. Fine. They’d figure it out as they went. She nodded to the door and pointed to her chest. Then she held up three fingers. Root drew one of her daggers and nodded. Shaw took the doorknob in her free hand. Three…two…one…

 

There were three men inside a small sitting room. One dropped to the floor almost immediately after Shaw opened the door with one of Root’s throwing knives in his left eye socket. They rushed into the room before the other two fully realized they were being attacked. “Try not to kill the these two.”

 

“No promises.”

 

“At least don’t make it messy.” It was bad enough the boy might see the first one. No need to add to the gore.

 

“That I can do,” Shaw replied as she met one of the men in a rush.

 

The second man kept running towards Root. She easily sidestepped his clumsy advance. Though she made sure to kick out at his ankle just enough to throw off his balance. His momentum caused him to crash into the wall behind her. He fell back on his ass, dazed from the collision.

 

“This is fun,” Root smiled as she watched Shaw parry the other guard’s blade. “I’ve missed getting into a good scrap with you by my side, Sweetie.” Or at least watching Shaw get in to one.

 

“You could have done this the other day,” Shaw pointed out as she ducked under her opponent’s arm. She brought her left knee up and rammed it into his gut. When he doubled over from that blow, she elbowed him in the back of the head. “But no, someone had to go running off on her own.”

 

“I had to go collect that shipping manifest. Which you know was worth it, as it ultimately brought this whole plot together.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Shaw kicked the man in the face. “Couldn’t be bothered to have brought it together a little faster though.” She kicked her man again as he feebly tried to sweep her legs out from under her.

 

“These things take time. Oh pardon me a moment, Sweetie.” Root took a half step to the right, a blade whistled as it sliced the air where she had just stood. Seemed her man had regained his wits. She turned ducking under another swing. The move brought her in close to his body. She took advantage of the new position and jabbed the heel of her right hand into his throat. It was a dirty move, but then again she wasn’t overly concerned with proper decorum at the moment.

 

He dropped his sword to clutch his now aching throat. Choking and gasping he stumbled backwards. Root flipped the grip on her dagger and stuck him across the temple with its hilt. The man dropped to the floor unconscious.

 

“Now what was I saying,” She turned her attention back to Shaw.

 

“Frankly, I lost interest two seconds after you said it,” Shaw replied. Her man was curled on his side into a ball, also unconscious.

 

“Rude,” Root pouted.

 

“Annoyed,” She countered.

 

Root shook her head as she sheathed her dagger. She moved towards the back of the room, Shaw fell into step beside her. The door to the adjacent room was unlocked when she tried the handle.

 

They went through the door and found themselves in a bedroom. Wardrobe, small sitting table, a wooden trunk and a single bed took up the majority of the space. Shaw looked around. “Thought you said this is the one?”

 

“I did.” She pointed over her shoulder to the sitting room, “Why do you think the guards were in this suite?”

 

“Do you see a kid? Because I don’t see a kid.”

 

“No,” She agreed. She knelt down and picked up a wooden horse. “But this is his room.”

 

“Maybe Wellington had him moved.”

 

She shook her head. “Alexander?” Root called out. They heard a sniffle coming from under the bed. “Alexander, you can come out now.”

 

A chubby face framed by shaggy, dark blonde hair peered out at them from under the blankets. Just as quickly as he appeared the boy ducked back under the bedding once again.

 

Shaw looked over at Root. “What do we do?” She whispered.

 

“You’re asking me?”

 

“Yes, because I hate kids.” She tilted her head to the side, “At least small, breakable ones.” They couldn’t exactly tell you what was wrong when there was an issue, or worse they talked non-stop, all the time. And they were always sticky in her experience.

 

Root smiled adoringly at her. “It’s not like they’re top of my list either, Sweetie.”

 

“But you had Gen.”

 

“Not physically. People tend to look down on that sort of thing.”

 

Shaw glared at her. Now was not the time for deflecting. “You know what I mean.”

 

“Fine,” Root huffed. She handed Shaw the toy. Then walked over to where the frightened boy was hiding and knelt down. “We’re not going to hurt you, I promise.”

 

The blankets moved a fraction. “Promise?”

 

“Yes,” Root replied. “We’re going to take you away from this nasty place. And if you’re really good Sam will let you ride her horse and after a little trip we shall have tea and cakes.”

 

“Is it a nice horse?”

 

Shaw nearly choked on her tongue.

 

“He’s a very impressive war horse,” Root replied. “But if you give him an apple he’ll be your friend. And a friend of mine tells me there’s a barrel full of apples in the kitchen.”

 

“Okay.” There was some rustling and then the little boy was crawling out from under the bed. Root stood up and shuffled back a step as not to crowd him. He was dressed in an oversized tunic, most likely handed down from one of his much taller cousins. He barely reached Root’s knees when he stood beside her.

 

“Alex, my name is Root.” She turned and gestured towards Shaw, “And that is Sam.” The boy waved at her. She awkwardly wiggled her fingers at him in reply.

 

“Hi.”

 

“Would you like to come away from this place?” Root asked. The boy nodded. She turned to walk towards Shaw but seemed to think better of it. She stopped and knelt down next to Alex.

 

“Why don’t you put on some boots.” Root suggested. “Do you have boots?” Alex nodded and wandered over to the opposite side of the bed.

 

While the boy was distracted, Root reached out and snagged a quilt from the foot of the bed. She turned and tossed it towards Shaw. She caught the blanket with one hand. And then looked between it and Root with a question in her gaze.

 

“Our friend with the knife injury.” Root explained and then motioned for her to go into the other room and cover the body of the man she had killed with her throwing knife. Shaw rolled her eyes but moved to do it anyway. She supposed it was a pretty gruesome sight for a kid.

 

When she came back Alex was standing beside Root once again. A pair of scuffed, brown riding boots were now on his feet. The boy chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before he pointed at Shaw. “She nice?”

 

Root bit her lip to keep from laughing. She nodded, “Very nice.”

 

At that the boy toddled over to Shaw and wrapped his arms around her leg. “Up?” He asked.

 

“Root,” Shaw hissed. Why was it touching her?

 

“Pick him up,” She laughed.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes skyward. Why were the gods doing this to her? She was a good-ish person now. The boy tugged on the hem of her tunic. She heaved out a breath and then scooped him up. Once the boy was settled on her hip she gave Root a look that dared her to say anything about it.

 

Root simply smiled and enjoyed the moment. “Shall we go?”

 

“Fine,” Shaw huffed. She adjusted her arm around Alex’s side and then stomped into the sitting room. The two guards they had left alive were still knocked out on the floor. She made it a point not to walk too closely to the now blanket covered body of the third.

 

Alex tucked his head under her chin. “Sleepy.”

 

“Knock yourself out, kid. I’ve got you.”

 

“There you are,” A voice called from the hall. Reese appeared in the doorway in front of them a moment later.

 

“John,” Shaw greeted him. Didn’t look like he had run into any more trouble downstairs. She nodded to her new appendage, “Found the kid.”

 

“I see that,” He smirked, but he was wise enough not to comment any further on it. “I found someone too.” He ducked back out of sight for a moment. There was a shuffling noise and then Reese shoved a dark-haired fellow wearing a long night shirt into the room in front of him. “He was cowering in one of the maids’ bedrooms.” He reached up and pulled a makeshift gag from the man’s mouth.

 

“You won’t get away with this. Thieves in my uncle’s house! Do you know who I am?”

 

Root smirked at him, “Lord Ogilvie I presume?”

 

Shaw blinked. That was Ogilvie? Amazing, the idiot was stupid enough to hang around. She shook her head. Did he actually think he’d just slide over to the palace to catch the last bit of the festival while his supposed best friend’s body grew colder?

 

What a jackass.

 

“So you do know,” He sneered, confirming Shaw’s assessment. “That means you’re stupid. I swear, claiming ignorance won’t spare you.”

 

“I wish you’d spare me your whining,” Shaw muttered. Bad enough the kid was latched on to her like a limpet. She did not have to put up with this idiot’s ramblings. John should have knocked him out so they could haul his treacherous ass out of here in peace.

 

Root extended her hand, “We know exactly who you are and what you’re up to. But allow me to make our introductions.”

 

“A thief is a thief,” He scoffed at her gesture.

 

She was undeterred by his rude demeanor. “The lumbering giant behind you is Ser Reese of Thornhill.”

 

“What?” Ogilvie glanced over his shoulder at Reese. His jaw opened and closed a few times but all he did was wheeze.

 

She ignored his gasping and carried on, “My beautiful companion is Ser Shaw of Thornhill.”

 

He snapped his head back around to look at her, as his eyes grew wide. “The dragon slayer.”

 

“That’s the one.” Root smiled. She could never ignore any mention of Sameen’s great accomplishments. Even if it did throw off the rhythm of her introductions. “I’m sure you know little Alex.” She paused for dramatic effect. “And you can call me Root.”

 

With that, Lord Ogilvie passed out.

 

Shaw looked down at him lying on the floor and then over at Reese and Root, “If he hadn’t done that on his own, I would have put him down myself.”

 


	14. Old Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root goes looking for answers and only gets more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo boy sorry for the delay on this one folks. I sort of got caught up with writing something for Shoot Week (which was great by the way, love how the fandom was all "I LIVVVEEEE." for a hot minute again.). Then I started writing another thing for Shoot Week. Both things ended up too long, so much so that one didn't even make it up yet. Brevity is not my thing apparently.  
> Any way, here we go. This one will begin to answer a popular question I've received about some "guest" appearances. After that, I think there's another 2-3 chapters including the epilogue left. I shall do my able best to not make you all wait a month for those. Hope you all enjoy.

 

The day after the arrests was mostly calm. King Harold had kept the circle present for Lord Wellington’s apprehension small. Those present knew not to spread the word until after the Solstice Festival’s conclusion. As they had brought Lord Ogilvie in late the night before, most of the nobility in residence within the castle had been asleep, and his march to the block had been unobserved. Root doubted anyone outside of their merry band knew of it at all.

They were left with a few, minor details to clean up of course. Shaw had gone with Carter to question the apothecary who Wellington said sold him the poison he placed in Lord Pierce’s wine. It wasn’t illegal in and of itself to deal in poisons within the city. However, anyone who trafficked in such wares was supposed to register with the guard. When they checked to verify Wellington’s story, they found that the man he named was not on the official register.

Carter had set out to politely inquire as to the merchant’s understanding of the situation. After all, it was her responsibility to educate the populace on the law and its consequences. Shaw tagged along as the beginning of said consequences, should the merchant be less than forthcoming.

Root had been invited along but she politely declined. Unbeknownst to Sameen, she had her own task to accomplish this evening. A certain hawk had been spotted again flying over the palace grounds that afternoon. And thanks to a bit of wind and some timely intervention on Bear’s part, this time Root got to see exactly what message Talibah had received.

Their pirate was meeting someone tonight. Now while she was clearly not involved in the drama surrounding Lord Pierce, she had come to this gathering under false pretenses. They still didn’t know why.

When Root saw a loose thread she simply had to give it a good tug.

As such she was currently watching from an alleyway as Talibah made her way into a small tavern. Root hadn’t followed the woman inside for a handful of reasons. The primary one being that she’d be easily recognized. Almost as important was the fact that the meeting wasn’t scheduled for some time yet. She was exercising a bit of caution tracking the woman this early. It would most likely prove unnecessary.

“Not thirsty?”

She turned to see Sir Reese emerge from the shadows deeper in the alleyway. “My favorite gargoyle,” Root quipped. “What are you doing skulking about this close to the ground?”

He shrugged, “I thought it was a nice night for a stroll.”

“Lovely.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Oh I do,” She nodded. It was quite lovely. Not a cloud in the sky. A nice breeze. Also not the reason he was out here lurking. “Now the truth if you don’t mind. I have a pressing engagement.”

“Your uncle is concerned about your interest in this pirate.”

“Gotten over his concern about Sameen, has he?”

“You knew about…” Reese shook his head. Of course she did. “You need to understand, everything with Lady Claypool left him shaken.”

She gestured to her ear. “How peculiar, seeing as I was the one permanently damaged by it.”

“The fact that she was able to take you and nearly take Gen has a lot to do with his worry.”

That was reasonable. His other suspicions, however, were not. “And so he suddenly decided Sameen was dangerous?” She tilted her head. “Dangerous to me that is,” She amended. They were all well aware of what Shaw was capable of when facing those she deemed her enemies.

“He never thought she would hurt you.” Even at his lowest King Harold had told Reese that Sameen would do anything to protect Root. “But he’s ruled this long because he’s learned not to trust easily.”

“Sameen is no danger to him or the kingdom, he can trust that.”

“He does.” Root glared at him. “Mostly.”

“Completely, Sameen has done nothing to earn his suspicion. I thought he’d get over this foolishness on his own but perhaps it’s time he and I had a talk.” Well past, it seemed.

Reese couldn’t exactly disagree. Things went much better when everyone was honest with each other. But they had other matters to discuss this evening. “That’s not the point. Tonight he’s worried you’re going to stumble into something you don’t want to.”

“Oh I assure you, I want whatever I may bump against tonight.” She simply loathed unanswered questions.

“In that case, you won’t be bumping alone.”

No, no she would not. This was a solo mission. Sir Reese could go back to decorating the eaves.  “I haven’t needed a wet nurse in decades.”

“This woman is dangerous.”

“So am I,” She countered.

“And yet you have no idea who she’s meeting or how dangerous they might be.”

They couldn’t possibly be as dangerous as a determined Root. However, she knew Reese was too mule headed to accept that fact. “I am merely looking to acquire more information,” She attempted to soothe. It was a simplification of her intentions though not a lie. “Observe don’t engage.” Unless someone forced her hand that is.

“Acquisitions are more fun with a partner I’m told.”

She pursed her lips. “You have an answer for everything tonight.”

“I know how to prep for a fight.” He shrugged. “Either you let me come along willingly or I follow you anyway and you run the risk of my alerting our pirate friend to your presence.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” This was her chance to get answers for Sameen. It could be her only chance.

“I would if it keeps you out of trouble.”

There was a certain resolve in his eyes. He actually would ruin this for her out of some twisted sense of duty. “You’re insufferable.”

“Glad you agreed to my terms.” Oh he was smug. She’d pay him back in kind. No, tenfold. Once they took care of the evening’s business.

“We should go,” She snapped. “It will take me longer to find a way to conceal your hulking form from view.”

He bowed as motioned towards the street. “After you, my lady.”

One hundred fold.

“They’re meeting on a rooftop near old town.” She lifted her hood and stepped out of the alleyway. Reese followed. Wisely, he didn’t say anything more.

The streets were crowded again tonight. Revelers dressed in white danced in and out of doorways. Shrines throughout the city were draped in white blossoms and garlands. The color represented a desire to cleanse the spirit. Several of the revelers in fact carried brooms to symbolically sweep any bad tidings from their path. Many believed that this night was meant for new beginnings, for washing away the old because the next night, the final night of the festival, was for The Reaper.

One wanted one’s sins forgotten should The Reaper decide to darken their door tomorrow night.

Root personally never bought in to that particular superstition. She enjoyed a good bath as much as the next gal, but some stains never went away. Your actions both good and ill followed you. When she met her end, she could only hope she had the privilege of it being a good one.

They had traveled about half the distance required of them when Root noticed several people giving Reese the eye. The Knight Commander was not seen often on this side of the city without an escort of armed men. Root sighed. She should have known the sight of a troll lumbering through the streets would draw unnecessary attention. She ducked into a side alley.

“Something wrong?”

“You’re too recognizable.” The last thing she needed was for some fool to let slip that Ser Reese had been seen shambling through old town where Talibah may overhear it. The woman was far too wily to think that a coincidence.

He scowled. “I’m not putting on a costume.”

She rolled her eyes, “Yes, because I keep giant-sized clothing in my belt just in case I need to have a parade at a moment’s notice.” She shook her head in exasperation. “I meant that we have to get off the streets.”

“What would you suggest?” A carriage wasn’t guaranteed to be better. He stuck his head out of the alley and looked around. Even if there were several about that they could easily steal.

Root simply smiled at him.

“I’m not going to like it am I?”

“Oh no,” She drawled. “I actually think you’ll be more comfortable with what I have in mind.” She nodded to a stack of crates. “I know you’re accustomed to heights already.”

Root walked over to the crates and began to climb. There were a couple precarious moments when the stack began to shift but soon she was standing about half as high as the building next to her. She smirked down at Reese. “Little help?” She was going to need a boost to get to the roof.

He sighed and began moving some crates from a smaller stack to shore up the base of the one she was standing on. Once he was certain there was only a fifty percent chance that he was going to break his neck in this endeavor, Reese began to climb. “Why did I let you talk me into this again?” He grunted when he was in finally position and gave Root a boost.

“I don’t recall actually asking you to come along,” She drawled as she but her left boot into his clasped palms. “If I had my druthers, I’d be doing this sans minder.”

“It was a rhetorical question.”

“I didn’t think you knew such a large word.”

“Why didn’t I allow you to do this on your own?”

“Because you love me.” She pulled herself up on to the rooftop and then leaned over the side to smile down at him. “Oh was that one rhetorical too?”

“Try again.” He did an odd little half squat and then leapt up. His fingertips barely managed to wrap themselves over the side of the rooftop.

Root waited until he had managed to haul himself up safely before giving another answer. “Because you love your kingdom and my uncle ordered you to meddle.”

“Getting warmer.”

“Also because it’s for Sameen.” One thing she actually respected about Ser John Reese was his unflinching loyalty to those he felt had earned it. If pressed she might even say she was grateful for it when it came to her family, and of course Sameen.

“As long as you keep her from stabbing me if this goes bad.”

“How could it possibly go bad?” Root began walking across the rooftop.

Reese easily fell into step beside her. “We don’t have time for me to list all the ways.” He wearily looked over at her. “I have to point out one more time that we don’t know much here. Maybe you should let this go until we can gather more information.”

Root shook her head. “She’s up to something. And everything in me tells me it has to do with Sameen. I can’t just let things go. Not when I could get her answers.”

“Shaw wouldn’t want you getting hurt in the process.”

She stopped and placed her hand on his arm. “Please, John.”

He stumbled. Once he had recovered his balance Reese turned to gape at Root. “Did you just ask me nicely?”

“Yes, and trust me, I’m just as uncomfortable as you are about it.”

They continued walking in silence. The trip was far less cumbersome up above the rabble. The buildings in this section of the city were packed in tightly. Not the best design should a fire ever break out, but it made them an excellent pathway. After about ten minutes they came to a break between buildings.

“They’re supposed to be meeting on that rooftop over there. The one with the crooked chimney.” Root backed up a few steps. “Mind the gap,” She called before breaking out into a full on sprint and leaping across the alleyway between buildings.

When Reese landed beside her she smiled, “I’m surprised you made that jump given your advanced age.”

He tensed his jaw but otherwise didn’t rise to her bait. He knew she was acting especially bratty because they had shared what could be considered an emotional moment earlier. Root still resisted anything resembling sentiment with anyone other than her sister and Shaw. The comment was her way of restoring their normal equilibrium.

After another five minutes Root suddenly stopped. “And now we go down.” She walked to the edge of the rooftop and stepped over the side. She was gone from his sight in an instant.

“Sure,” He grumbled following her lead. He landed quickly. The drop was only about one story. Root was standing only a few paces away. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”

“I’d say you’re not enjoying it enough.” She tilted her head, “It wouldn’t hurt for you to take some joy in your work.”

“Might hurt you though,” He grumbled under his breath.

“Here we are.” Root ducked behind what appeared to be a set of pigeon coops.

“Why here?” Reese asked. “Shouldn’t we be closer?” The building they were standing on butted right against the area for the meet, but they’d still be a good way out of hearing distance, especially if their quarry opted to keep their voices down. He was pretty sure they wouldn’t be able to politely ask Talibah and her guest to speak up.

Root shook her head. “Too much closer and we’ll be spotted for sure.”

“How are we to know what they’re saying then?”

“Because,” She gestured to the two walls behind them. The building they dropped down from and another equally taller one, bracketed where they were now standing. “The sound of their conversation will echo off that building to this corner. She assures me that it will sound as if we are standing right next to Talibah and whomever she’s come here to meet.”

Not to mention Root could also read lips. If the big lug could not, that was his problem. Uncle Harry should have sent a cleverer nursemaid.

He pointed to the coops. “Even with the pigeons?”

“Just don’t bump anything.” She grinned, “And try not to let them see you. Poor things get too good a look at your terrifying visage and they’ll spook for sure.”

“You’re paying to clean my boots.” There were pigeon droppings everywhere. “And my clothes.” Despite his protests, Reese crouched down behind the coops.

“Hush, she’s coming.”

Root pointed to the empty rooftop in front of them. After a beat Talibah stepped into view. She approached from the opposite side of the building. He watched as she leapt from the next building over crossing the wide gap between buildings as if it were a puddle in the street. It was impressive for someone who was supposed to be a mere trader.

Sure enough over the soft cooing of the birds he could hear the scuff of a boot on the rooftop as clearly as if someone had stepped beside him. He looked at Root with wide eyes. She merely smirked in reply.

It burned slightly less than a verbal, “I told you so,” but only slightly.

They watched as Talibah paced the rooftop with her hands clasped behind her back. Root noted that the woman now wore one of the swords she and Shaw had discovered hidden in her room on her hip. Why was she now giving up the pretense of being harmless?

“She seems nervous,” Reese lowly grumbled. “Something’s spooked her.”

“Or someone.” The message she had intercepted had been brief. Simply the time and this place were listed. Talibah’s current behavior seemed to imply that whomever she was waiting on was important.

“And how grows our garden?” A voice asked. Female, unfamiliar, holding no discernable accent.

Talibah turned slightly towards the opposite corner of the building. “It grows strong.” It was apparently a signal that the way was clear, as a moment later a pair of white-gloved hands appeared on the side of the building. Soon a figure hauled itself up and over the side.

“I did not think you would be sent.”

“Why not?”

The woman who spoke was dressed in white from head to toe. The outfit would help her blend in quite well with the masses below. She also wore a long hooded cloak despite the summer heat, most likely for the way it near completely obscured her features. All Root could make out was the woman’s lower jaw and lips. Her skin was fair, with no visible scars. At first glance she was unremarkable. Though the prominent dimple in her chin would help to identify her should she escape Root’s clutches.

Not that that was going to happen. The thought was purely fanciful. If this woman was indeed a threat to Sameen she’d be in the dungeons if not dead by night’s end.

Talibah shrugged, “Anyone could relay my message.”

“Let’s just say I felt like a party.”

“Of that I have no doubt. If only you took our cause as seriously as your revelries.”

The woman seemed to ignore the barb, “Looks like you’re missing quite the party down there.”

“I was sent here to work,” Talibah replied. “Did you have any difficulty crossing the city?”

“Patrols are clearly up, but you know I know how to blend.” The Woman in White turned to glance down at the street below. “Still, it strikes me as a shame not to take advantage.”

“I’ve availed myself of the local color, trust me.”

“And yet you’re still this serious.”

“There is something sinister at play here. My message said it was dangerous to come.”

Now it was the other woman who was suddenly serious, “And so you should realize that is exactly why I had to.”

“I understand that a debt is owed,” Talibah shook her head. “Yet the risk…”

_I can’t see her._

“What do you mean you can’t see her?” Root asked under her breath. Was she somehow using Samaritan’s ashes like their attackers last spring? She found that unlikely. How would the pirates have acquired them?

_I only see Talibah. She is the only one there._

“No, there is another woman with her.” Root leaned in closer. “The Bridge Troll and I both see her.” She noticed Reese nodding in agreement out of the corner of her eye.

_There is no one else._

“At all?” That was different. Even the assassins had caused a noticeable distortion from what Root had been told.

_No one. Nothing._

Something cold settled in Root’s stomach at that proclamation. Things were far more dangerous than she could have ever imagined. And yet what she heard next meant she could not turn away now.

“So the Dragon Slayer?” The woman in white asked.

“It’s her.”

“If we are to move forward, there can be no doubt.” She stepped closer to Talibah. “You’re absolutely sure?”

“There is no mistaking that face.”

_You need to leave._

“They’re clearly speaking about Sameen. I can’t just leave.”

_It’s not safe. That woman is dangerous._

“Obviously,” Root bit her lip. No good has ever come from people or creatures that somehow managed to evade Her sight. She couldn’t fathom the magics in play here. There were incredibly powerful people at work, and that was so very concerning. “All the more reason for me to stay.” Sameen’s very life might depend upon it.

“What of the other matter?”

“There are signs. As I said in my message the search would benefit from my remaining in the city a few weeks more.”

“And that won’t cause suspicion?”

“You and I both know there are many places one can conceal one’s self in a city this large.”

The woman nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. “I have leave to authorize that request. But should you not find it...”

“I will not fail.”

“Should you not find it,” The hooded figure pressed. “Your opinion, then?”

Talibah squared her shoulders. “Either way, The Demon should proceed with caution.” There it was. Complete confirmation that this Demon was involved in whatever scheme Talibah was cooking up.

Root idly noted the flap of wings. As she was crouching behind a pigeon coop it was to be expected. She kept her focus on the two women before her.

“I’ll pass that along.”

_Look up_.

She followed the directive without question. “Shit,” She swore under her breath. Reese looked over at her in alarm and then looked up as well.

The hawk was perched on the wall above them. It tilted its head as if it were sussing out their intentions. Reese held up his hand, “Nice bird…”

The hawk let out a sharp cry. Talibah startled. “We’re not alone up here,” Her companion announced.

Root groaned. “What did I tell you about spooking the wildlife?”

“Pigeons not hawks,” He grumbled.

“Who is there?” Talibah barked. “Show yourselves.”

Reese glanced over at Root. With a nod the pair of them stood. They moved towards the women. “In the name of the king, you’re both under arrest.”

Root snorted. That wasn’t exactly her plan.

As if sensing that, Talibah drew the sword from its scabbard on her hip. The Woman in White appeared to pluck a staff from thin air. She gave it a twirl and took a half step forward. “Drop your weapons and you’ll come to no harm,” Reese instructed.

Again not exactly Root’s plan.

“That’s cute.” The Woman in White took another step forward.

Talibah grabbed her arm, “Go. Share what I told you.”

She looked between Talibah, and the rapidly closing Root and Reese. She nodded after a moment and turned away. “Stop!” Root cried out. The woman ignored her order and began to run across the rooftop.

Root moved to give chase. Talibah stepped in front of her. “You do not know who you are interfering with.”

“Apparently, neither do you,” Root sneered. No one with a modicum of sense would threaten Sameen Shaw on her watch. Or get between her and those that did.

“Root,” Reese snapped as he drew his sword. “I’ve got this. Go after her!”

Talibah tried to block Root’s path again but had to turn aside in order to not be cut down by a charging Reese. “I said go!” Root smirked as she sidestepped the now grappling pair and raced after the escaping woman.

She watched as the woman vaulted over the gap between this roof and the next and increased her pace. Her prey had a head start. But this was Root’s city. She knew every rooftop and alleyway. She would not escape her, not with Shaw’s safety at stake.

Root easily cleared the gap as well as the next one and the next. They were flying across the rooftops as easily as if they were running over open ground. A tiny part of her found it exhilarating. It wasn’t often that someone surprised her. Perhaps, Root had become too complacent, relying as she did on her god to give her immediate answers.

“You’re good,” The woman taunted over her shoulder. “But can you fly?”

Root scowled, what did she mean by that?

Her answer came a heartbeat later.

There was a rope line that had been used to hang banners stretched across the span between buildings ahead of them. The Woman in White veered toward the corner of the building where the line was secured. She jumped. In mid-air she slapped her staff across the line and held her hands on either side. She slid down the line toward the ground. One of the guards on patrol was riding down the street facing the opposite direction.

Unfortunate, as that meant he didn’t see her coming.

The woman in white’s boots struck the guard across the shoulders. He toppled off of his mount and on to the ground. The horse startled for a moment but settled itself just in time for the woman to drop into the saddle. She waved up at Root and then urged the horse into a gallop.

It wasn’t long before the woman and her stolen mount were almost out of her sight. Root began running again. She kept her eyes on the street below as best as she could as she crossed rooftop after rooftop. Finally, a smile stretched across her face as she saw exactly what she needed below.

There was a risk involved in what she was about to do. Root would have to take her gaze off of her prey long enough to acquire new transportation. As she neared the edge of another rooftop, she decided that the risk was ultimately worth it. She was losing too much ground continuing her pursuit on foot.

Root pulled one of her knives and slashed at a clothesline as she ran past. She caught the now free end of the rope in her empty hand and launched herself over the side of the building. She was in freefall for a moment before the rope pulled taught. She pumped her legs and swung herself through the air one again. Releasing the rope at the apex of her swing, Root tucked her legs into her chest and tumbled. A moment later she landed in a large haystack.

She turned her head to smile at a dumbstruck stable boy. “Do you have any horses saddled?”

He pointed a shaking finger at a man about to mount a bay mare.

“Thanks,” Root replied as she hauled herself out of the hay. By the time she settled herself the man already sat astride the beast. She sighed. No time for pleasantries then. She grabbed the man by his boot.

“Unhand me wench!”

Root rolled her eyes. Why did they always go to wench first?

She pulled the man from his horse and vaulted into the saddle. “Pardon me,” She called over her shoulder and she urged the horse into a sprint. She’d be sure that the crown compensated the stable eventually for this impromptu aid. She quickly made it to the end of the lane.

Now which way to go.

Root tilted her head in thought. “We’ve established that you can’t see her. What about the horse?”

_I see one without a rider headed towards the gates._

“Don’t lose track of it.” Root snapped the reins. “Ha!” 

She pushed the horse hard as they bobbed and weaved through the streets in an attempt to close the distance between them. There were still revelers about. Root did her able best to avoid running any down in her haste. Thankfully, the closer to the outer walls she came, the more the crowds began to thin out.

_The horse is through the gate._

Root nodded and snapped the reins. “Any ideas on where it’s going?”

_It appears to be following the old road._

“To the fort?”

_Seems so._

Root rushed towards the gates. The men standing guard startled at her appearance. She noted that two of them had come down from the watch posts to join the guard on the ground. Most likely due to her prey’s earlier passing. She’d have to let Reese know to commend them.

“Don’t worry boys, I have this one.” The men were left gawping after her as she disappeared into the night.

The old road was deserted. Root guided her mount as best she could in the starlight. She sent a silent mental note of thanks to her uncle for ensuring that even the lesser used roads leading into the capital were kept in good repair. It wouldn’t do for her horse to break an ankle in an errant rut in the road at this juncture.

_Keep going._

“Wasn’t planning on stopping.” The huffing of the horse and the strike of its hooves in the dirt was punctuated by the ever growing roar of waves the further she flew from the city. She was getting close to the end of the road. By Her command to remain on this path, Root assumed that she’d find her prey at the end of it.

Soon the ridge holding the old fort came into view. She saw a white shadow ascending the slope. Suspicions confirmed, she dug her heels in just that little bit more. Her victory was now in sight. Root eased her borrowed mount to a stop just outside the crumbling walls of the old fort a short time later.

Root practically leapt from the saddle. Another horse was drinking greedily from a trough that had been installed for the presentation a few days ago. Things were coming full circle it seemed. She pulled a knife from her belt and made her way into the fort.

The Woman in White was standing on the platform Lord Pierce had spoken from a few days earlier. Her hood was down now, revealing a cascade of blonde hair falling just over her shoulders. Root did nothing to conceal her approach, wanting the woman to know she was now cornered. She seemed unconcerned however. Didn’t even turn around when Root’s steps brought her to the base of the platform.

“Have to say I’m impressed.”

“Oh?”

“There’s not many who can keep up with me.”

“Is this where I tell you I’m impressed?” Root scoffed. Not bloody likely. Even if she had put up a merry chase.

“Are you?” The woman laughed. She finally turned around. Her bright blue eyes were alight with mirth. “You can tell me, I’m not the type to let well-deserved flattery go to my head.”

“What is your interest in Ser Shaw?”

The woman ignored the question. “So if I heard right back there you’re her. You’re Root.” The woman cocked her head to the side as her eyes pointedly trailed across Root’s form. “Didn’t think you’d be so easy on the eyes.”

“That’s one I don’t get often.” Taller. Older. Once, in her assassin for hire days, a particularly corpulent noble had expressed shock over the fact that she really was a woman. She’d stabbed him a few extra times free of charge. Of course there was also the story of multiple assassins using her name. That was mentioned a great deal upon first meeting. Very rarely did anyone say that they had expected her to be ugly, however.

“Well, I’m not quite like other girls.” Was that a note of flirtation in her tone? She smirked, “And I’m in no way disappointed by this turn of events.”

More than a note. “Hate to tell you, but I’m spoken for.”

“So am I,” The woman shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the lovely view in the meantime.” She raked her teeth across her bottom lip. “And you are quite lovely.”

Yep, she was definitely flirting. Now that simply wouldn’t do. That was Root’s move generally. Throw ‘em off with a bit of sex appeal and then go in for the kill. Some upstart wasn’t going to come to her town and practice all her tricks.

“If you’d appreciate a better look,” Root licked her lips, “I’m told the view from the dungeons is especially lovely this time of year.” She cocked her head to the side, “Can’t say the same for the smell…”

“As tempting of an offer that is, I am afraid I’m going to have to decline.”

Oh really? “It’s adorable that you think you have a say in the matter.”

“I could give voice to much that would shock you.”

“I’m not easily shocked.”

“I’m sure.” The woman smiled. She glanced over her shoulder and took a half a step backwards. She was at the wall now. Nowhere else to go. “But again, I’m not like other girls.”

“And yet you’ve lost like all the rest.”

That earned a raised brow. “Have I?”

“There’s nowhere left to run.”

“Who needs to run?” She hopped up on to the wall.

Root held out a hand. “Stop.” The fall from that height would kill her. She’d never know what secrets she was hiding that made her able to elude Her gaze, or why she was so interested in Shaw.

The woman smirked. “Thanks for the exercise, Root. Haven’t had this much fun in ages. You’ll have to bring your lady along next time.” She sprung into the air again, executed a perfect backflip and then vanished over the wall.

The wind howled in Root’s good ear as she scrambled to the wall. She looked down into the dark water below. There was no sign of a body. But there was no way the woman in white could have survived the jump. She’d have Carter instruct her men to search the shoreline for the body in the morning.

She shook her head. “What a waste.”


	15. Dance The Night Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All's well that ends well, until it isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh it wont take me another month to update this. 29 days later...OH HEI!  
> Yeah, don't really have an excuse for this one kids.  
> What I do have is a nice 7K of denouncement, fluff, grumpy assassin being grumpy, more fluff, and rut roh!, however to show for yet another prolonged absence.

Just before her ninth summer, Root had acquired a puzzle box from a traveling merchant. The rich brown wood had been smoothed and stained under the weight of many hands before hers. For weeks she had tuned the box over and over. Attempt after attempt failed to reveal the peculiar keepsake’s secret.

Hanna had at first been just as intrigued but her interest had wavered after a few days. “Why not smash it open with an axe?”

“That would ruin it.”

Hanna seemed to weigh that in her mind. “The farrier! He has small picks and tools. You could borrow something to pry it open.”

She could, “But then I still wouldn’t know the secret.” Root frowned, “It would win.”

Her mother had scolded Root for spending more time twisting the box round between her hands, than twisting a needle and thread in the practice of her needlework. “You’re going to be the lady of a grand house in a few years. You still have much to learn.” She took the box from Root’s hands. “Perhaps focusing on another matter will bring clarity. One hour of dedicated stitching and then you shall have this back. Work now, you may play again later.”

Nurse had smiled at her indulgently when she found her toying with the box one sunny afternoon, though Root could tell she didn’t understand her newest obsession either. “Come out of the sun at least, child. You’re starting to go all rosy. Your mam won’t be pleased. Come along, I’ve made tea cakes.”

Root however had been undeterred. She looked this way and that. She’d poked. She’d prodded. She’d given it a good shake a time or two. The box kept its secrets. She finally broke and asked her unseen friend, who had only told her that the answers would come if she kept at it. And so that is what Root did. She spent every spare moment working through her methods, her failed attempts, her theories in her head. Until one day just as the leaves began to turn, the mystery was revealed.

The box opened.

Root never told anyone how she’d managed it. The secret was now hers. She guarded it, like a warrior would the sword of his fallen enemy. She had fought and won. Her prize, her trophy, had been earned through her persistence and cunning alone. She liked that she held knowledge that others did not. That she unlocked a secret that those around her were too blind or foolish to see the true value of.

Her eyes strayed to the box as her fiancé paced the drawing room of their quarters in the palace. “You should have told me,” Shaw grumbled, not for the first time that day. Her tone was harsh. Lesser men would have trembled in fear at the sound.

Root, however, simply smiled at the outburst. While it was true that an angry Dragon Slayer was nothing to be trifled with, and that it was wise to give her a wide berth lest one lose any number of appendages, Root knew the true source of the woman’s ire.

“John is terrible with heights, what if there had been more of them? Both you idiots could have been killed.” Oh she sounded angry. Incensed even. “Do you know what that would have done to m…er Gen if you had been hurt?”

Sameen was a million puzzle boxes.

“I’m touched that you worry so, even when I’m standing in front of you as healthy as can be.”

“Worry?” Shaw scowled. “Do I look worried right now?”

Root nodded, “Adorably so.”

“Insufferable. Idiotic. Imbecilic. Irritating…” The litany of growled descriptors went on until Shaw flopped down on her preferred lounge. “I don’t know why I bother anymore,” She grumbled to Bear who placed his head promptly across her lap. “Madwoman will do what a madwoman will do, damn the rest of us.”

He let out a little growl of his own, so that she’d scratch behind his ears.

Seemingly, understanding his directive, Shaw began to give him a hearty scratch. “You’re right, she is nothing but trouble.”

Bear barked his agreement.

“You know the two of you would be bereft without my dazzling presence in your lives.”

“We could easily test that theory,” Shaw drawled. She cupped Bear’s head between her hands to look him in the eyes. “What do you say, Handsome? Wanna run away together?”

“I’d follow you.”

“I think Bear and I know how not to leave a trail.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’d find you, wherever you went.”

“That kind of talk is bordering on creepy.”

Root shrugged, unbothered by the accusation. “Sometimes the truth is a little creepy I suppose.”

Shaw considered it for a moment. “No more than the fact that you’d use a god to track me down in general, I guess.”

“Even if she refused to tell me,” Root began. “I’d still find you. I thought you knew by now; I’d do anything for you, Sweetie.”

“So you constantly say,” Shaw drawled. The truth of Root’s devotion didn’t make her uncomfortable per se. That weirdness with Durbin notwithstanding, she had accepted that Root was telling the truth when she said Shaw being Shaw was enough for her. She’d even say that she felt as much of anything she could feel with and for Root.

Well, she wouldn’t actually say it without sustaining a head injury. This week had been a series of atypical occurrences on top of the usual cavalcade of oddity that was their lives. In general, that kind of talk wasn’t Shaw’s style. 

A certain princess on the other hand…

“Because it’s true,” Root countered. “I’d burn the very heavens themselves for you.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

She leaned over the side of the lounge to smile down at Shaw. “Or fairly cozy by our standards.”

Shaw lifted her left hand from Bear’s head to point up at her, “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Profess my undying devotion?”

“Distract me from your idiotic actions from last night,” Shaw refuted.

“Not to quibble, Sweetie, but you’re the one that changed the subject to include a holiday for yourself and Bear.”

“A garden path you gladly followed to excess.”

She licked her bottom lip, “I’d follow…”

“Save it,” Shaw cut her off. “Let’s get back to the fact that you went off on your own once again, risked your life chasing after an unknown opponent, and managed to return with nothing to show for it.”

“Talibah is sitting in the block as we speak,” Root scoffed, “I’d hardly call that nothing.”

“We already knew she was shady. Figured she was a pirate based on the brand on her arm. Was sure she was up to something that would get her arrested. So again, I’d say you got nothing.”

“Did Talibah really not tell you anything useful?” The pirate had been extraordinarily tight lipped. None of their usual methods for gleaning information from prisoners had worked so far. Root was afraid that tomorrow was going to be rather messy if Shaw hadn’t managed to get anything out of the woman when they had been left alone for a brief period that afternoon.

“All she said was that it was good to see me again.” She rolled her jaw. “I got the distinct impression that she was talking about something long before this week though.”

“Could you have crossed paths with her before?”

Shaw shrugged. “It’s possible. I ran across all kinds of people back in my assassin days. But I sure as hell don’t remember her.”

“I do agree with her about one thing, you’re hard to forget.”

“Which brings us back to a whole lot of nothing.”

“Well, we do know for certain that she is working for someone now.”

Shaw pursed her lips, “I suppose if you think about it, you did manage to make sure her message did not get to whomever that is.”

Root’s mood began to sour. “I’m not certain about that.”

Carter had sent a squad out to comb the shore for the Woman in White’s body. So far their efforts had proven futile. They had been searching since daybreak. As of last report, there had been no trace of her to be found.

“There’s no way anyone survives a jump from that cliff. It’s too high.” Hit the water the wrong way and you’d break your neck. Even if you did manage to land clean, there were still obstacles. “Then you’ve got the rocks at the base. Way the current flows that time of night?” Shaw shook her head, “It’d pull a body right into them, your ghost would get shredded.”

Root sighed. She had considered each and every point Shaw had just listed herself, and yet… “I’ll feel better once they bring up the body.”

“They may never find one. Tide could have pulled it out to deeper water long before the search party got out there.”

Logically, Root knew that was probably the case. She also knew that logic would also state that there was no way the woman she spoke with could have survived. There were far too many factors working against her. But something within Root remained unsettled. “I don’t like this. There are too many unknowns.”

“Run down what we do know then, one more time?”

“I’m not sure what that will accomplish,” Root began.

“I’ve been told lately that talking helps. Gods know you enjoy the sound of your own voice…”

That earned her a rather exaggerated pout. “Rude.”

“Just try it,” Shaw lowered her voice, “For me.”

“As we discussed earlier, I’d do anything for you, Sweetie.” Root’s brows drew together in confusion, “I’m not sure where to begin. The entire encounter was odd, even by my standards.”

“This other woman, She couldn’t see her? Did Talibah’s friend somehow get a hold of some of Samaritan’s ashes too?” As improbable as that would be, at least it was an explanation they knew how to deal with.

“No,” Root shook her head. “This is different. This woman was different.”

“How?”

“It’s hard to explain.” Shaw wasn’t sure if that was Root or her invisible friend’s excuse.

She wasn’t having it either way. Root had been pretty sparse with the details thus far. She’d given everyone the basics of her little game of chase with the Woman in White when she arrived back at the palace the night before. But you could tell she had been holding back. If they were going to tackle this thing head on, then Shaw needed to know what that was about. “Try me.”

Root sighed. “When the catalysts attacked our home, She couldn’t see them…”

“Because they had anointed themselves with Samaritan’s ashes.” Even in death the pain in the ass dragon’s magic seemed to cancel Root’s invisible friend’s out.

“Yes. But she knew something was there. Her vision was obscured, like a fog.”

“She couldn’t see what was happening but she knew something was blocking her vision,” Shaw reasoned. “The main difference was that she could see enough beforehand to send your uncle a warning.”

“Exactly. This woman last night. There was nothing for her to see before or during their meeting. It was as if Talibah was speaking to thin air.” Now it was Root’s turn to pace the length of their drawing room.

“Any ideas as to how that’s possible?”

“She doesn’t know. Even when I was chasing her, the Woman in White was like a void to Her.” Frustration practically dripped from her tone. “I can’t think of a single logical explanation for it.”

Shaw sat up on the lounge. “Okay, even I can admit that, that can’t be good. But I just don’t see any way that this invisible woman of yours survives that fall.”

Root flopped down to sit beside her. “Which means we still don’t know why a bunch of pirates were apparently looking for you.” And that was the crux of her discontent. Someone out there still posed a danger to Sameen and she had no idea why or even how to begin to stop them. She raked a hand through her hair and stared at the floor. Failure was not a feeling she was accustomed to.

“We’ll get it out of Talibah eventually.”

Eventually wasn’t good enough. Eventually opened up far too much opportunity for their enemies to gather their strength. “As I said before, I don’t like this at all, Sameen.”

“Hey, if this demon wants to pick a fight, I say bring it on.”

Root ceased her study of the floorboards to glance over at her. “Aren’t we currently involved in enough fights for you?”

“We’ll be kicking Decima’s ass soon enough now that Pierce’s weapons won’t be making it into Greer’s gnarled hands.”

“We foil one plan and he comes back with three more. One of these days we’re not going to see it coming.”

“This whole doom and gloom attitude isn’t like you.” Shaw nudged her with her elbow, “Honestly, it’s creeping me out.”

“If this woman could somehow evade her sight, what’s to say Greer cannot figure out how as well? Not knowing the how of it all leaves me unsettled.”

“You’re making yourself feel like crap because for once you don’t know everything.” Shaw shook her head, “Welcome to how the rest of us go about our days.”

Root’s face fell into a pronounced pout. “It’s awful.”

Shaw snorted. “I have faith that that twisted brain of yours will figure this out dragon or no dragon. Which by the way, let’s not forget I killed a tiny mountain of a dragon, what’s a king or even a demon after that?”

“You know you can’t milk that victory forever.”

“Try me.”

Root finally smiled, “I adore you.”

“I still have no idea why.”

“You’re tremendous in bed.”

“That’s true.” She smirked. “I’m excellent on lounges too.”

“Oh?” Root leaned in close. “Care to demonstrate?”

Shaw reached out and hauled her into her lap. “You talk too much.”

“So you sa…” Root’s words swiftly turned into a gasp as Shaw took her bottom lip between her teeth. It didn’t take long for her deft hands to make quick work of the laces on Root’s tunic. When she released her lip with a wet pop, Root sat back. She pulled her tunic up and over her head and tossed it across the room.

She leaned back down but left a tiny sliver of space between them while she asked, “Now what would you rather I do with my mouth?”

Shaw shook her head. “You just can’t help yourself can you?”

“I can…if you’d like to watch.”

Shaw’s eyes went dark at the implication. “After.” She closed the space between them.

They broke apart some time later at the distant echo of the watch announcing the hour. Root stood up with a sigh. “We should probably finish getting ready.” Not that it would take long given her current state of undress. She ran a hand through her thoroughly disheveled hair as she stepped into their bedroom. Shaw remained on the lounge and grumbled her displeasure at the interruption. 

The festival was to be concluded with another ball, a masquerade this time. Root might have borrowed her ensemble for the evening from a certain troop of actors. She ran her fingers across the green velvet robes laid out across their bed. It wouldn’t take her long to change into the costume. Shaw was already dressed for the most part. She was wearing one of her more elegantly cut sets of black on black tunic and breeches.

She had made one concession for the evening. Though Root didn’t see it with the rest of their things. She tilted her head, “Where is your mask?”

“Oh,” Shaw glanced over the back of the lounge at her. “I must have left it downstairs when we bathed.” Root vaguely remembered Shaw taking a wrapped parcel from one of the stewards before they stepped into the bathing chamber earlier that afternoon. That parcel didn’t appear to have made it upstairs with them earlier.

“That reminds me, Carter wanted me to go over the guard assignments one last time.” She stood up and stretched. Root licked her lips as a sliver of toned stomach was revealed by the move. Shaw smirked as she walked over to her. “I’ll pop down there, grab my mask and take care of any last minute screw-ups.”

Root leaned in and kissed the skin where Shaw’s jaw curved against her neck. “How did we ever live without you?”

“Damned if I know.”

King Harold had clearly spared no expense to bring the Solstice Festival to an epic conclusion. Even Root was impressed as she entered the ballroom not too long after she and Shaw had parted. It seemed like he had directed the staff to gather every blossom in the kingdom to drape over the stage, tables, banisters, any horizontal space really. Between the flowers and the hundreds of candles lighting the room, the air was sweetly perfumed.

There was no herald on duty to announce the guests as they arrived tonight. In the spirit of the original purpose of this masque, no one’s name was to be revealed so that The Reaper could not find them. Root smiled under the hood she wore. The superstition was silly, but the state of some of the nobles in the crowd’s dress was well worth the indulgence.  

Root snagged a goblet of wine from a passing servant’s tray and weaved her way through the crowd. She idly noted that Shaw would be well pleased by the refreshment table. An entire farm’s worth of meats were proudly on display. Root eyed the bevy of fruit tarts on the next table over with a small smile. Shaw wasn’t the only one who would be indulging herself at that particular table.

“Lady Ginsberg!”

Root suppressed a rather Shaw like eye roll at the voice and schooled her features into a mask of bland disinterest. The man was important to the kingdom’s security. She was grateful that they were able to save him. She’d even venture to say she was grateful to him personally for providing Joey a purpose. But she still found his entire demeanor vexing. “Lord Pierce.”

“I thought that was you.” The man was beaming as her approached her, arms spread wide. Joey followed a few paces behind him. “Where is the Dragon Slayer this glorious evening?”

“Working through a slight staffing issue with the High Steward. They’ll both be along shortly.”

“Someone should remind them that tonight is a celebration. All work and no play you know…” He chuckled.

“One’s celebration is almost always another’s work,” She intoned sagely.

He squinted at her…or perhaps that was just his face. “You have an odd way of looking at things. Has anyone ever told you?”

“More than once,” She quipped.

“And where is your mask this evening?” Pierce himself was dressed like a peacock; pointed mask, bright blue fabric from head to toe. The outfit came complete with a bevy of brightly covered feathers adorning both of his shoulders like a rather flamboyant cape.

“Everytime I give my name.”

“Pardon?”

Joey, who was dressed with some type of sea motif, opted to step in at that moment, “You make a lovely dragon.”

“Indeed,” Lord Pierce crowed. “Could have used you the other night. Those actors were rank amateurs.”

“I am certain they did their best. They were most likely intimidated having to rise to the level of your performance,” Root quipped.

“I was rather good,” He grinned. “Oh! I heard the most delightful joke about you earlier.”

“Indeed?” Root glanced at Joey for any clue. He shook his head. No help whatsoever.

“Can you believe, I heard one of the scullery maids say that you were an assassin?”

“Oh well that is true,” She smiled.

Lord Pierce gawped at her for an instant before he doubled over in laughter. “You are too much.”

“She certainly is,” Joey drawled.

“I know you assisted Lady Carter and the others when they sorted out that,” He cleared his throat, “Unpleasantness…with Ian. But to think you capable of murdering anyone? You, my gentle lady? That is simply too much.”

“I probably shouldn’t regale you with tales of my substantial body count then, mi lord?” She downed the rest of her wine and smoothly swapped her empty goblet with a fresh one from the tray of a passing maid.

Pierce slapped Joey on the shoulder, “This woman!” He laughed. Whether it was at her question or her method of acquiring a second beverage she wasn’t certain.

“Since the secret is out, you can call me Root.”

“Stop,” He threw his hands in the air. “You’re killing me.”

“Oh if only,” She drawled.

Joey appeared to decide that his friend was walking on rapidly thinning ice. He nodded to someone across the room. “Didn’t you say you wanted to speak with Lord Elias?”

“Ah yes.” Lord Pierce bowed slightly to Root. “You my dear are a delight.” He shook his head as he rose to full height once again, “Root.” He snorted, “Everyone knows that awful woman is far older.”

“Do they?” Root chuckled as Joey dragged Lord Pierce away.

“For a genius, he’s sort of slow.”

Root turned to smile at her little sister. “Common sense and book sense are two vastly different entities.”

“Seriously,” Gen nodded, causing the hood of her costume to slip down over her eyes.

Root couldn’t help but smile at her appearance. Black boots, breeches, and a hooded tunic. A quiver full of arrows slung over her right shoulder. All in all, she was dressed like a mini-Shaw. Well, figuratively mini at least. Gen had hit a growth spurt and now stood just a tiny bit taller, much to Sameen’s consternation. Root didn’t have the heart to inform her that given her parentage, that Gen would probably grow even taller in the coming months.

“I see Uncle Harry let you pick your own costume.”

“Not without a fight,” Gen scowled. “You should have seen the ruffled monstrosity he had sent up to my rooms. I swear he still thinks I’m six.”

“He means well.” Especially after last spring. Gen was growing up quickly and that meant the darker underpinnings of their world were drawing nearer to the sweet girl. Root could understand the desire to hold time at bay.

“Then you can wear the stupid thing.”

Even if it was a futile hope. “No thank you. Ruffles don’t agree with me.”

“Where’s Shaw?” Gen asked to change the subject.

“She said she had to go help Lady Carter with something. She’ll be along shortly.” Root’s eyes strayed to the buffet. Her girl should be attacking the refreshment table any moment now actually.

“Is she dressing up?”

“What do you think?” Root smiled softly at her sister’s crestfallen expression. “She promised she’d wear a mask.” She offered in consolation.

“Probably the best we can hope for huh?”

“She wouldn’t be our Shaw otherwise.”

“You know you’re pretty smart.” Gen’s expression turned wicked, “I can’t believe you were nearly an old maid.”

“I’m discerning in my tastes.” She bumped the girl with her hip. “Wouldn’t hurt you to be.”

“What taste?” Gen scoffed. “I haven’t the option of taste, discerning or otherwise. No one will come within ten paces of me thanks to you and Shaw.”

“Then clearly no one deserves you.”

Gen crossed her arms over her chest. She so resembled Shaw, Root had to restrain herself from cooing over the adorableness. “The fact that we keep having this conversation should tell you something.”

“That I’m right?” Root smiled sweetly, “So nice of you to finally cotton on to that my dear.”

“I don’t know why Shaw likes you.” When Root opened her mouth to reply, Gen held up her hand, “Don’t.”

“What?”

“You know what.”

“I have no idea what you are implying.”

“Right.”

“Ladies,” Reese grumbled in greeting as he approached the squabbling sisters. He was dressed in his normal uniform, though he did have a small mask over his eyes.

Zoe walked beside him. She was much more dressed for the occasion. Her gown was a shimmering collection of golds and oranges. A stylized half sun covered the upper portion of her face. “Root, Gen,” She nodded.

“I like your gown,” Gen smiled at her.

“I like your Shaw impression.” She looked the girl up and down. “Though you’re smiling way too much if your goal is authenticity.”

“Sameen was smiling quite a bit this afternoon, trust me.”

Gen made a disgusted face, “Do you have to?”

Root simply grinned at her discomfort.

“I think this week being over is reason for all of us to smile,” Reese shrugged.

“You know some people say holidays are restful.” Zoe took a goblet from one of the waiters, who happened by. “I think they’re full of shit.”

“I’d imagine normal, restful holidays are quite boring.” Root took a drink from her own cup. “I’m certain I’d hate it.”

“Great, the next time we have a murder plot during Solstice week, we’ll just leave everything to you.”

“I did most of the work this time anyway.”

Zoe frowned over the rim of her cup. “How do you figure?”

“Sameen and I retrieved Ian’s son.” Reese cleared his throat. “With a little help.”

“Let’s not forget who captured our pirate friend.”

Root tapped him on the chest. “Ah but you wouldn’t have even been there to do so without me.”

“Carter is the one who figured out that Salazar was the one who sabotaged the ship,” Zoe argued. “And she got Ian to reveal Wellington’s involvement.”

“I missed a lot this week,” Gen sighed. They never included her in any of the good stuff. “No wonder I barely saw any of you.”

“You have no idea,” Root chuckled. She turned back to Zoe, “Because of the shipping manifest I found, we made the connection between Ian and the poisoned wine.”

“Stole,” Reese rumbled.

“Borrowed,” Root countered. “Semantics aside, I was still the one that brought it to everyone’s attention. You can’t argue that.”

They couldn’t. “Don’t be smug,” Zoe chided her.

Reese shook his head. “Pretty sure smug is her only expression besides crazy.”

“I physically express myself in a wide variety of ways, just ask Sameen.”

“No. Not gonna happen.”

“Do I even want to know?” Carter asked as she came to stand beside them.

Root looked around behind her. “Sameen isn’t with you?”

Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “She’ll be along in a moment.”

Even Reese picked up the fact that there was a thread of something off in Carter’s tone. “Something wrong?”

“Not in the least,” Carter chuckled.

“Are you going to let the rest of us in on the joke?”

She ignored him and pointed to the glass in Root’s hand. “How many of those have you had?”

“It’s my second one,” Root frowned. She was never one to drink to excess, but the vintage was quite good. Uncle Harry had clearly directed the kitchen staff to break out the good stuff. And honestly any attempt at prolonged conversation with Lord Pierce required spirits. She’d actually shown a great deal of restraint not downing this one in one massive gulp. “I thought this was a celebration, Lady Carter?”

She didn’t respond directly to the question; Carter reached out and took the glass from Root’s hand. “Perfect,” She grinned. “You’re going to want to be clearheaded for this.”

Root looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “For what?”

Carter nodded towards the doorway to their left. By fortunate happenstance, the span between them and the door was relatively free of guests. The view was unobstructed for the moment. “Just keep watching.”

Time seemed to slow as the doors opened and Shaw stepped into the room. The gown she wore was black but that was the only concession made to her typical attire. It was designed to current fashion, cut just low enough across the bosom to be a hair this side of scandalous. The skits flowing out from her hips like a night at sea. Her hair was loose for the most part, the black lace of her mask held most of the dark fall out of her face.

Shaw paused just inside of the ballroom. She scanned the crowd for a moment before seemingly spotting their group. Root watched as she squared her shoulders, as if prepping for an especially difficult battle, and began forward once again.

Root was nearly struck dumb at the vision of beauty approaching them. She had seen Shaw in dresses before on various jobs, but never one quite like this. She wanted desperately to meet her halfway but found that her legs were refusing to cooperate with the rest of her. So rather than risk falling on her face, Root remained watching in awe as Shaw drew nearer.

She heard Zoe choking on her wine beside her. “Woah,” Gen breathed at the same time. Her sister was developing a rare talent for understatement.

“How?” She finally managed to uncharacteristically stutter when Shaw stood in front of them.

“I lost a bet.”

Carter leaned closer to Root, “You’re welcome.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll instruct Uncle Harry to commission a statue in your honor.” Her eyes tracked the swell of Shaw’s bosom as she drew in a sharp breath, most likely to curse at them. “Two statues,” Root amended before she could speak.

Shaw rolled her eyes, “Go ahead, get it out of your system.”

“Oh no my lady,” Root sketched out a bow before taking her hand in her own. “I intend to savor this all night long.” She brushed a kiss across her knuckles. Shaw jerked her hand away with a scowl.

“If you’re looking for opinions, Shaw…” Reese began until Gen elbowed him in the gut.

Shaw glared at him. “You don’t think I look good? Because I think I look good.”

“Practically delectable,” Root interjected. She certainly looked hungry all of a sudden.

Reese looked like he was going to speak until Gen elbowed him again. He coughed and glared at the girl. She simply gave him an eerily Root-esque smile.

“You look like you could use a drink, John,” Carter noted. She took his arm and began to lead him away before he could attempt to further spoil the moment.

Zoe smiled at Shaw, “Told you, you’d look good in a corset.”

“How good I look was never the issue,” She grumbled.

“Still, I was right.” She laughed, “Just thought I’d point that out. You people forget that I always am, far too often.” Zoe turned and disappeared into the crowd after Carter and Reese.

Shaw shook her head, “Woman is too smug for her own good.”

“Your Grace,” Root dipped forward into another bow and extended her right hand. “Would you grant your humble servant the honor of a dance?”

The lady was unamused. “You’re ridiculous,” She scoffed.

“You’re divine. A vision of the miraculous made flesh before me.”

“Will you shut up if I dance with you?”

Root tilted her head in thought, “Probably not.”

“At least you’re honest.”

“With you? Almost always.” She wiggled her fingers. “One tiny dance?”

“Fine,” Shaw groaned. “If John opens his mouth…”

“I’ll pluck out his tongue and feed it to Bear.”

“No need to punish Bear.”

“Raz?”

“I don’t want you to give it to Bear, why would I let you give it to my horse?” He didn’t even eat meat. That was ridiculous.

“I’d like to give…”

“Actually,” Gen cut in before that sentence could flow to its inevitable innuendo laden end. Root had almost forgotten she was still there. “I believe I’d like a dance.”

“So go find yourself a partner,” Root huffed. She had no idea why her sister had chosen this moment to bring that up again. “Weren’t you just complaining about not having enough attention from snotty little lords?” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Go on, off with you. We’ll be fine right here.”

“I’d rather dance with Shaw.”

Root practically snapped her neck turning her head to gawk at her. “Say what?”

Shaw, however, smiled at the girl’s suggestion, seeing an opportunity to gain back some ground on Root. “Can’t refuse royalty can I?”

“No you cannot,” Gen grinned. Shaw winked at a scowling Root and offered Gen her arm. The girl looked her up and down, “How is your galliard?”

“Almost as good as my pavane, Highness.”

“And what am I?” Root sputtered.

“Wait, what was your formal title again?” Gen tapped her bottom lip in thought. “Let me see,” She took Shaw’s arm, and turned her attention back to Root, “You’re not the Duchess of Groves.”

“Or the Crown Princess of Thornhill,” Shaw added. “Or the Dragon Slayer.”

“I…” Root was a bit of a loss, not understanding how she had lost control of the conversation so quickly.

“Will wait here until we’re finished? Excellent.” Gen nodded to her and then allowed Shaw to escort her to the edge of the dance floor. “Did you see the look on her face?”

“It was pretty priceless.” Better yet it distracted Shaw from her slight discomfort about her own attire. She snorted, “Thanks for that.”

The minstrels had just begun a lively tune meant for paired dancing. Gen gave Shaw a slight bow and held out her right hand.

“What are you doing?”

Gen shrugged as she rose back to her full height. “You’re wearing the dress, so I lead.”

“How is that fair?” It wasn’t. Shaw always led when she danced with Root. Her attire didn’t make any difference.

“I’m also taller?”

Shaw’s left eye twitched. “Barely.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” The princess muttered under her breath.

“What?”

“Please, Shaw.” She stuck out her lip in a pout Shaw was sure Root had helped her perfect.

“Ugh fine.” Stupid princesses and their stupid, annoying, pouty faces. “Only because this whole thing is irritating Root.”

“Oh of course,” Gen replied.

The pair began to glide across the floor with ease. Gen was an apt lead for not having much practice with the position. Shaw was so light on her feet, that it was quite easy for her to follow and gently correct any slight misstep. After a few twirls Gen felt comfortable enough to ask, “Did you really lose a bet?”

Shaw’s eyes strayed to where Root was still standing glaring at the dancefloor. “Do you honestly think I’d dress like this if I hadn’t?”

They lasted for two dances. However, when the music slowed Gen felt a tap on her shoulder. Root cleared her throat. “Yes” Gen drawled.

“I’m cutting in.”

“I’m astonished you lasted this long.”

“Alright, point taken,” Root huffed. “Hands off the lady.” Gen stepped away with a chuckle.

“Does the lady have a say in this?” Shaw grumbled.

“Of course, Sweetie.” Root stepped into the space her sister had just vacated and smiled. “One dance or three?”

Shaw rolled her eyes. “I’m leading.”

Root looked at her quizzically, “Don’t you always?” Granted, they hadn’t danced often, but Shaw had always led before.

“That’s right.” Shaw held out her hand. Root placed hers in it without further question. Shaw placed her free hand on her waist and off they went.

“Have I mentioned how breathtaking you look?” Root asked mid-way into their second dance.

“To an annoying degree.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“You don’t have to keep repeating it.”

“Yes, I do,” Root smiled. She trailed her fingertips against the back of Shaw’s neck. “It’d be a crime not to.”

“Because you’ve never committed one of those before.”

“No, never.”

Shaw nodded to the stage as they passed. “Am I wrong or is your uncle actually smiling?”

Root saw her uncle lean back in his throne. There was indeed a small smile gracing his face. It was good to see. “We saved a good man, reunited a family, all while weeding out a conspiracy, what’s not to smile about?”

Seemed like it was more than that to Shaw. The king had been in a sour temper even by his already overly-serious standard lately. “Uh huh.”

“We also just received word that a bit of a rebellion has broken out in Decima. Greer lost three hundred men in an ambush near the mountain pass to the western provinces.”

“Will it kill the mood if I ask why that many troops were there to begin with?” Those mountains were settled in the middle of thick forest. The western portion of Decima was sparsely populated. The reason being that land had originally belonged to the Tree People if Shaw remembered correctly. Once the territory had been taken by one of King Greer’s atrocious ancestors, Decima had paid its further development little mind. Why would Greer need so many troops in that region now? Didn’t make much sense.

“Not really,” Root shrugged. “I had the same question myself in fact. Zoe is going to reach out to her remaining contacts in Decima tomorrow.”

“You know, no one has explained just how she knows so many people there.”

“I’m sure she’ll reveal her secret to you one day.”

“Meaning you know.”

“I know everything,” She shrugged. “Well, almost everything.”

“One of these days your head is going to swell beyond the limits of the doorway.”

Root twirled away from Shaw for a moment before returning to the cradle of her arms. She tapped her on the nose. “But today is not that day.”

Shaw batted her hand away, “Idiot.”

“Just a fool in love,” She sighed dreamily in reply. That earned her a disgusted groan. Root’s smile grew wider. “Fine, I’ll behave.”

“Oh now we both know that’s a lie.”

“Only because you so enjoy when I misbehave.”

The music changed again. Root was sure Shaw would declare them finished but she was surprised when she merely adjusted her grip and led her through a new set of steps. She did her best to keep her elation in check, she didn’t want to set Shaw off again with too much cheer.

So Root opted to gaze at the crowd around them. Couples were smiling, laughing as they danced. She caught sight of Gen by the edge of the dancefloor. She was waving her arms about exaggeratedly, spinning some wild tale for Carter and her son. They turned in the opposite direction. Uncle Harry and Lord Elias were speaking near the stage, each with a wry grin. Root’s view of them was suddenly obscured as Zoe and Reese twirled across the floor between them. Even the Bridge Troll had the beginnings of a smile on his face.

This was her family. They were safe. They were happy.

“There will soon come a day when all the battles will be behind us.” Maybe for the first time in her life, Root believed it. “There will be peace.”

“People will still be idiots,” Shaw scoffed.

“True,” Root hummed in agreement. “But perhaps we’ll be able to take longer retreats between outbreaks of idiocy.”

“Speaking of,” Shaw nodded to her left.

Root saw Cole and Veronica surrounded by a few well-wishers. It seemed Ser Grice was leading a congratulatory toast. “Guess the baby word is out.”

“Not like they could have kept that secret for much longer.” Nature had a way of revealing such matters.

“Cole seems much happier about the whole affair. Is that because of your wise counsel?”

“Don’t blame me for that,” Shaw snapped. “Those soppy looks on their faces make them look addled. I want no part of it.”

“They were looking at each other like that way before the baby.” Honestly, Root found it endearing. Cole and Veronica were good people who made each other blissfully happy. The fact that you could tell just by the way they looked at each other was sweet. “From the beginning actually. It only got worse after they were married.”

“Well, we better not look that dumb when we’re married.”

“When?” Root squeaked. “When we’re married?” She repeated just to be certain she had heard correctly.

“If or when…”

“Which is it?”

“Ever, actually,” Shaw attempted to deflect, “Seriously, I ever look that stupid you have to put me out of my misery and quickly.”

“Because that is a wife’s duty?”

Shaw groaned, “You would glom on to that.”

“Only because you’re saying you’ve thought about marrying me.”

“We are engaged, as you so love to point out.”

“But besides that.” Root’s nose crinkled in her ‘I’m excited but don’t want to be too excited, but I can’t control my stupid perfect face’ way of hers. “You’ve thought about that. With me?”

“Maybe…”

“Maybe yes you have?” She pressed.

Shaw closed her eyes and released a breath. “Maybe, once Decima is dealt with, and if no other dragons, assassins, or average idiots decide to mess with us, someday we can talk about it.”

“Maybe someday?”

“Yeah, maybe someday, Root. That good enough for you?”

Instead of answering, Root stopped dancing and dropped her hand. Shaw nearly tripped over her own feet at the sudden halt. “What are you…”

Root turned and marched away.

“Root?” Shaw stumbled after her. The hell was going on?

She didn’t stop. If anything her speed increased as she left the dancefloor and nearly collided with Barron Yogorov. “Wait!” Shaw called.

Root led her across the room to a small corner where the side of the grand staircase met the north wall. Shaw glanced around. She couldn’t see any reason why Root would stomp all the way over here. There was nothing of note. No one was hanging around. There was just a big ass potted fern and the bottom half of one of the tapestries.

“Seriously, what is with you?” She huffed. The stupid dress was a bitch to run around in. Not that she had planned on practically sprinting after anyone in the damn thing. One would think Root would be completely blissed out by tonight’s unexpected revelation. Shaw couldn’t understand this reaction at all.

Root finally deemed her worthy of an answer, “I have another dance in mind.”

“I’d rather eat,” Shaw groused, irritated she had to chase after her. Root’s tone went completely over her head in her annoyance.

“That can certainly be arranged.” She shoved Shaw into what proved to be an alcove behind the tapestry.

Before she could recover her wits, Root pressed her roughly against the stone wall. The tapestry fell back across the entrance, concealing the pair of them from the rest of the ballroom. There was just enough light for Shaw make out Root’s face as she grinned, “Hello, there.”

“Root.”

“We never had the opportunity to properly make use of this little hideaway the other night.” She licked her bottom lip, “Since you were being so sweet, I decided there was no time like the present, Sameen.”

“Oh yeah?”

Root leaned in and trailed her mouth across Shaw’s jaw, to just below her ear. She drew the lobe between her teeth and gave it a sharp nip. “Want to know just how much I adore this dress on you?” She reached down and started gathering the fabric of Shaw’s skirts in her hands.

“I’d rather you adore it off of me.”

“Now who’s talking too much,” Root chuckled as she dropped to her knees.

“Still you,” Shaw groaned as teeth bit into her thigh. She reached down and tangled her fingers in Root’s hair. She felt her smile against her skin. “Definitely still you.”

Hours later a pleasantly exhausted Shaw was dreaming of a steak the size of a table. Dream her had just taken her first bite when Root called her name. “Sameen.”

She kept chewing.

“Sameen!”

“Busy,” She grumbled.

It felt like the room began to shake. “Wake up!”

“Wha?” Shaw blinked. Root was leaning over her in bed. Her hand on Shaw’s arm had been the cause of the shaking. “What is it?”

The whites of her eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. It might have been the abrupt awakening, but Shaw thought Root looked afraid. “Get up. Something’s wrong.”

 


	16. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the hell is going on?

 

Shaw was still pulling a tunic over her head as they ran out the bedroom door. The hallway was dim, the candles in the lanthorns scattered along the walls had burned almost completely down. There were no guards in the hallway as they rushed towards the stairs. That meant neither Gen nor Harold were on the floor. Given the late hour, that was odd. Given Root’s agitation, it was an extremely bad sign.

“Gen?”

“I don’t know,” Root practically groaned. Shaw chanced a glance out of the corner of her eye. Root was rubbing at her temple with one hand. Her brows were drawn together. She was clearly in pain.

“Root…”

“Down,” She directed as they reached the stairs.

“Any way you can give me any more details?” She had to know something about what they were rushing into.

“It’s not good, Sameen.”

Obviously.

“Yeah, I got that.” She wasn’t trying to be difficult. Seeing Root this shaken and in pain was throwing her off. When Shaw felt off she fell back to what had often worked for her whilst problem solving, pure aggression.

“I’m sorry,” Root said. She had obviously picked up on Shaw’s frustration. “She’s upset. Shouting. Everything is distorted in my head.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Hurts. All I’m getting clearly is hurry…blood…lost…”

Awe crap. Shaw hurried her steps. She could hear Root matching her stride behind her.

“Stop.”

“What now?” The stairwell looked the same as ever. Shaw didn’t hear any other footsteps on the stone stairs. They were in a hurry a breath ago, why were they stopping?

Root didn’t answer. Shaw looked over her shoulder. Root was standing a few steps higher than her. She pressed five of the stone blocks just above her head and then there was a loud click. Stone scraped along stone and a fissure appeared in the wall. “This way,” Root directed and then disappeared through the opening.

“Can’t even have an emergency without some added spectacle,” Shaw grumbled as she followed. “Wait!”

Root reached back and clasped Shaw’s hand in hers. She allowed it as she couldn’t see in the pitch black passageway. Root didn’t seem to have any issue with the lack of light. She led Shaw through the cobweb-strewn corridor with ease. The sheer amount of dust in the air made Shaw’s nose tingle. Whatever this pathway was, it was little used. They went down two small sets of stairs and then stopped at yet another wall. On a better day, Shaw would have to ask Root exactly how many passages like this were threaded through the seemingly solid walls of the palace.

And just exactly why Root have failed to mention them before now.

The unexpected detour payed off however. When Root pressed another series of bricks, the wall in front of her split open to reveal a view of the main courtyard. It was the fastest Shaw had ever made the trip here from their rooms in her recollection. They quickly made their way out of the secret passage and into the warm night air.

The courtyard was in chaos. Guards were scrambling back and forth between the palace steps and the main gate. Shaw watched two men dart out the main palace doors and rush past them carrying an empty stretcher between them. Whatever was happening there were apparently wounded.

“The hell is going on?”

“Over there,” Root pointed. “Carter.”

Lady Carter was standing on the far side of the courtyard. She was dressed in her nightclothes, apparently she’d gotten an abrupt wake up as well. A bit of the tension in Shaw’s shoulders unfurled at the fact that she was fine at least. Pissed off by the looks of it, but physically fine.

“Carter,” Shaw called out as they approached.

She turned away from a guard. “It took you two longer to get here than I thought it would.” To Carter’s credit, the words carried the weight of exhaustion, not anger.

“What exactly are we walking into?”

Carter held up a hand. She refocused on the guard she had been speaking to. “I want ten more men in that cell block. Sweeps of the grounds every hour until dawn.”

The guard thumped his chest. “It will be done, Lady Carter.” He stood waiting to be formally dismissed.

She rolled her eyes. In a rare show of temper, she barked, “Do I have to tell you to breathe? Get moving.” He scrambled away to follow her directives.

“Seriously, what is going on? Was there an attack?” Shaw wasn’t sure how she would have slept through such a thing but it was the only possibility she could conceive of that would explain all this activity.

“After a fashion,” Carter let out a long breath. She cut her eyes over to Root. “First of all, King Harold and Gen are fine.” Something in Shaw’s chest unclenched at that proclamation. “This,” She waved to the activity around them, “Is because of the prisoner, she’s gone.”

“What do you mean gone?”

“Is there a definition of gone I’m not aware of?” Carter snapped.

Shaw held up her hands. So maybe that was a dumb question. “I mean how is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” Carter replied. “We wouldn’t even have known anything was amiss until morning if Guardsmen Locke hadn’t stumbled to the palace gate bleeding all over herself. The alert was raised but by the time more men reached the block, Talibah’s cell was empty. Counting Locke, I’ve got twelve guards in the infirmary with various injuries.”

Given that they had three guests of questionable character housed in the small prison, Carter had bolstered the normal unit of guards numbers. They’d discussed it that afternoon in fact. More men in the cell block. More men on the small prison’s entrance. Seems all that planning hadn’t helped much.

“Injured?” Root inquired. “Not dead?”

Carter nodded, “If I wasn’t so pissed off, I’d be impressed with her skill and her restraint.”

“What do you need from us?” Shaw asked. She needed to do something more than stand around and talk.

“Not much you can do here. John took a squad out already to search the city.”

“He won’t find her that way.” Root shook her head. “She knows how to hide.” She sounded absolutely certain about what she was saying.

Carter didn’t argue. “I’ve sent out runners to tell the city guard to close the gates anyway. Let the Harbor Master know to block all ships from leaving the docks until they are searched.”

“Makes sense,” Shaw nodded. Locking down the city was the most logical path. The gates and the harbor were the two most obvious ways out of the city. Control them long enough and they might get lucky enough for Talibah to make a mistake.

“But those methods will only work if she hasn’t already made it out of the city,” Carter sighed. “I don’t know how much of a head start she has. Locke said she’d been unconscious for a bit before she made it to the gate, but didn’t know how long.” She glanced at Root, “You wouldn’t happen to have an idea about that?”

“No,” She gestured to her rumpled clothes. “We were all caught unaware this time.”

“Funny how that keeps happening with these people.”

“Hilarious,” Shaw grumbled. “What about Lord Wellington and Lord Ogilvie?”

Carter scowled, “Slept through the entire thing apparently.”

“Great.” One hand at least those two assholes hadn’t managed to slink away in the chaos. On the other, that fact didn’t do anything to aid the current situation.

“That’s not even the worst news,” Carter sighed.

Seriously? Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose to keep herself from groaning. After taking a deep breath she asked, “It’s not?”

“Lady Carter?” A voice called, before she could answer.

Shaw knew that voice. But there was no good reason for her to hear it now. She turned to face the man rapidly approaching them. “Fusco? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, Tiny,” The guard captain grumbled. He looked rumpled even for him. Shaw squinted. Actually he looked like he had been riding for days. His tunic was spattered with dust and sweat. The bags under his eyes had bags. “Should have known if there was a mess the two of you would be in the middle of it.”

“We sort of live here, Lionel,” She growled. “Still trying to figure out why you’re here though.” This night just kept getting weirder. Which for them was really saying something.

With that, Carter opted to step in, “Looks like you’re unaware of our other issue, Shaw.”

She looked at Root. She looked paler. It was clear Root felt just as lost as she was. “Apparently,” Shaw replied for the both of them.

“We can fill you in on the way,” Fusco grumbled. He placed a hand on Carter’s arm. “King Harold is asking for a status report. Best not make him wait. I don’t think he’s too happy.”

“No one is.” Carter waved to one of her men. “Let me leave a few instructions.”

“Are they necessary?” Fusco hesitated, “He’s really not happy.”

“Not much I can do about that,” Carter replied. She nodded towards Root and Shaw. “Go ahead and take them up to the gallery.”

“Not the main floor?”

“More people might make it worse for her.”

Her? Shaw thought back to the empty hallway upstairs in the family wing. Carter told them Gen was fine. Had something happened to Zoe? One of the other noblewomen in residence for the festival? “Okay, again what the hell?”

Root placed a hand on her arm. Shaw grimly noted the slight tremor in her grip. “Let’s just go, Sam.”

If anything she looked more shaken than before. “Okay,” Shaw warily replied. She turned to Fusco. Even though he was the guest here, she instructed him, “Lead the way.”

The trip didn’t take very long. Fusco led them back into the main hall and then down a side passage to a little known set of stairs. Shaw was familiar with the room he was leading them to. King Harold frequently used the small receiving chamber off of the main hall to greet dignitaries. She had often observed from the gallery above for security purposes.

Fusco pulled open the large oak door at the top of the stairs. He waved them forward with a bow, “Ladies.”

Shaw narrowed her eyes at him. She opened her mouth to tell him exactly what he could do with his courtesy when Root nudged her forward. She glanced over her shoulder, the look on her partner’s face was enough to quiet her impulse to rage. Root’s demeanor continued to be unsettling to see. Shaw didn’t know what the hell was going on, but there was no way that who or whatever was waiting for them in this room was a good thing.

Fusco cleared his throat. “Thanks,” Shaw grumbled and walked forward. The best thing she could do for Root was to figure out what the hell was going on and then start taking action to fix it. She could hear soft voices as she walked further onto the gallery’s walkway. One glance at the floor below explained some of Root’s behavior.

Gen and King Harold were still in their nightclothes, it seemed they had indeed been dragged out of bed like the rest of them. Physically, they both appeared fine from what she could see. The disturbing bit was that they were sitting with Claire Mahoney. Kid looked like she had been dragged through the entirety of the Blackwood…backwards. Her hair was a tangled mess. Shaw could see the hem of a dirty, tattered dress peeking out underneath the blanket she had wrapped around her narrow shoulders.

“What happened to her?” Shaw kept her voice down so as not to disturb the trio below. She knew that Lord Mahoney and his family had been invited to spend the festival at court. She also recalled overhearing that they had been delayed somehow.

Fusco frowned as he came to lean against the bannister beside her. “Patrol found her on the road. She’d been out there for a couple days.” His voice was just as hushed as hers. It held a delicate quality Shaw didn’t know the brusque man was capable of. “Hid under one of the carriages at first. Played dead. She finally started walking when she figured no one was coming to finish her off. When we went back to search for any other survivors…” He looked away and swallowed. “Nothing we could do.”

“Her mother and father?” Root softly asked.

“Everybody. Seemed like half the household had been on the way down here for the festival.”

They would have been. Several of the families had brought more than their share of guests to take advantage of the king’s well known generosity during such events. It was yet another way for the nobles to show off. Lord and Lady Mahoney would have had several attendants each, as well as a company of guards. “Could she say anything about who might have attacked them?”

“All she said was arrows came from the trees. The first one hit her father and once his body hit the ground it was like rain.” He rubbed at the stubble along his jaw. “Having seen the aftermath, that’s probably a good description for it. I don’t know how she managed to get out of that carriage with only a few cuts and scrapes.”

“Maybe that was intentional,” Root whispered. “And I fear the damage will be far worse than a handful of minor injuries.”

“Probably right about that,” He allowed.

No doubt. Claire was barely an adult. A sheltered one at that given her family’s status. Seeing that much death, let alone it being family? Shaw shook her head. She heard the echo of her father’s voice screaming in her mind. That would mess a good many adults up.

“We’re gonna do our damnedest to find who did this. I brought a few of the arrows with me for your people to look over.” That was a start. Maybe the materials could tell them something about their origin. “Got men combing through the wood looking for tracks.” He nodded to Root, “Could use your expertise there. Ambush site was on the King’s Highway right along the edge of the Blackwood.”

Shaw looked up from the tableau below them to glance at Root. “Isn’t that the route you took to get back here?” The beginning of the week felt so long ago at the moment.

Root nodded.

“She’d cleared a few bandits out too.” Fusco scowled, “Guess a new batch moved in after.”

“One would assume…”

“Meaning you don’t?” Shaw asked. Though she’d be inclined to agree. Too much of a coincidence. There was a bad smell to this entire thing, beyond the obvious.

Seemed like Root shared her opinion. “Everything about this feels wrong.”

“Understatement, Sister.”

There was a knock at the door. Claire startled at the sound, drew her legs up against her chest and curled into the back of the chair. It was clear she was attempting to make herself as small as possible. Gen reached out in an attempt to calm the other girl but swiftly drew her hand back at a word from the king. He stood from his seat and knelt in front of Claire. He must have said something to her because she nodded and then put her head down against her knees. Shaw could see the tremor of her shoulders even at this distance.

King Harold said something else to the girls and then stood. They watched as he went to the door. The way the hinges were set Shaw couldn’t see who he was speaking to once he opened it, but there was a brief conversation. The king nodded and then took a half step back. Zoe entered the room carrying a serving tray. She and Harold exchanged a few more words and then the king left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Shaw watched as Zoe crossed the room. She gently set the tray down on a small table next to Gen’s seat. There was a jug and three clay cups, a bit of bread and some cheese. Gen said something to Claire. Probably encouraging the girl to have a bite to eat. The girl shook her head, a clear refusal. Gen looked up at Zoe with a helpless expression.

Shaw griped the bannister in front of her in an effort to keep from punching something. That look made her want to break things. Neither of those girls deserved to be sitting where they were.  

“Lord Mahoney’s holding is on the border with Decima,” Root noted. Though hushed, her voice sounded stronger than it had since she’d woken Shaw up. “Greer will see any instability in the region as a boon. This will leave Thornhill vulnerable.”

“Really, Sister?” Fusco snorted, “Goin’ on about politics at a time like this?”

“Believe me, King Greer and his men will be.” Everything Root said was true. Lord Mahoney’s lands would be strategically significant should war break out between Thornhill and Decima. They held the easiest route between the kingdoms through their mountainous natural border. The Mahoney family had held that land and defended the pass for centuries.

To turn all that responsibility to someone as young and inexperienced as Claire…

“You don’t seriously think Decima had anything to do with this?” Fusco gaped at her, “No way. Ambush site’s too far inland for troops, for starters.”

“You don’t always send soldiers to start a war.”

“Woah who’s talking about wars now?”

“No one will,” Shaw interrupted. “Because we’re going to find who did this, whoever put them up to it, and we’re going to get justice for Claire.”

Root didn’t seem so sure. “I don’t know if the king’s justice can fix this.”

“It’ll be something.” You took care of your own. They’d put the bastards that did this in the ground, then they’d figure out how to help Claire shoulder the weight of her new responsibilities. “It’ll be a start.” Shaw’s grip on the bannister was so hard now the wood gave a little creek.

Root laid a hand on hers. She didn’t say anything, but Shaw knew she understood. Someone was going to bleed for this. They’d make sure of it.

“Yeah, anything’s got to be better than doing nothing,” Fusco sighed. “Poor kid’s all on her own now.”

Claire looked up just then and caught Shaw’s eye. She looked hollow. She was there, breathing, but there was something missing behind those eyes. She was broken. Understandable, as her entire world had been changed in an instant.

Thing was, something told Shaw that theirs had been as well.


	17. Demon's Seed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loose ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp here we are at the end of another chapter folks. I hope you enjoyed the action this time around. I love this silly little AU, and I love that all of you still seem to have as much fun reading it as I do writing it. Thank you as always for reading.  
> Until next time, I leave you with a slight preview of things to come.

 

The island was difficult to get to, to say the least. No map or chart marked its location. You couldn’t find it unless someone showed you the way. Even then the reef on the south side and the rocky coast around the rest made docking a dangerous endeavor.

As such many legends had formed about the place over the years. Some true some not. It was true that a veritable graveyard of ships occupied the sea floor around the island. It was not true, however, that the occupants of the island drew the sailors to their deaths so that their souls could fuel their dark rituals. It was also true that the island served as a waystation and meeting place for an allied fleet of pirate ships. The rumor that those ships were manned by the unquiet spirits who had crashed against the reef in their mortal lives was almost entirely untrue.

People did so love to exaggerate.

It would not be a lie to say that Talibah held some small fear in her chest as she brought the dingy, she had bought off the captain of the ship she had convinced to bring her close to the island, on to the shore. This place was her home. She was glad to return to it. However, she had been tasked with an important mission when she departed for Thornhill many weeks ago. A mission she had failed to complete.

Her steps were heavy as she trekked through the brush towards her destination. She’d purposely had the ship bring her past the uninhabited side of the island. She’d at least preserve its secrets even as she failed to uncover those she had been tasked to discover.

She didn’t stop in the lower village by the harbor, turning instead directly on to the path that ascended upwards towards the mountain. She walked until the sun had gone from being directly overhead to just parallel with her left shoulder. The upper village was bustling as afternoon slowly melted into evening.

Talibah waved to several familiar faces as she passed through on her way to the path to the temple grounds. She climbed four hundred and thirteen steps to reach the main gate. It like the rest of the temple complex, had been carved from the mountain itself. The guards bowed their heads as she approached. The more senior of the pair verbally greeted her, “Welcome home.”

She nodded to the speaker as she marched through the gate. She kept her head high. She would not allow herself to show any fear here.

The air was heavy with the smell of incense. The various shrines within the compound were readying for evening prayers. Though the temple was originally a home for one god in particular, each of the seven had been given a place within the walls. The acolytes were welcome to pray to whomever they chose. Their master valued faith, but did not dictate where it was directed.

She acknowledged the greetings of several of the men as she made her way through the more public areas of the temple towards her master’s private residence. She ducked through three more gates until the noise of those joining evening prayers died to a dull hum. Soon she found herself alone in yet another courtyard. Talibah paused for a moment to consider her path; would the archery range or the library be the best place to begin.

“The boss lady is tending the garden.”

Talibah looked up at a girl standing on the stairs to her left holding a broom. It appeared someone had been assigned additional chores once again. “You should not be so informal in your address.” Just because the girl’s patron could get away with such things, did not mean a mere apprentice could.

She huffed out a breath, blowing her overly long bangs from her eyes. “It wouldn’t kill you to loosen up a bit, you know?”

“But it might kill someone,” Talibah drawled in reply.

The girl paled slightly, “I’ll be sure to scrape and bow a little extra at dinner to make up for it.”

Talibah rolled her eyes skyward. The Beloved was bad enough. Why did the gods choose to curse their lives with a younger version as well?

She decided that it would be better to move on. Further delaying this meeting would do her no good. And further conversation with this girl might cause her skull to crack open from sheer frustration. She began walking to the right, towards the gate that would lead her down and into the gardens.

“Talibah?” The girl called out. It was rare that she used anyone’s given name. Talibah slowed her steps and looked back. She smiled at her and nodded towards the gate, “Good luck.”

Talibah bowed her head, had word of her failure reached even the apprentices? She sighed. At least the girl seemed genuine in her well-wishing. “My thanks.”

The master’s private garden was as much of a curiosity as the rest of the island. It served no one purpose. Some of the plants were beautiful to look at. Some provided food. Others were used for healing. Others still for making poisons. All were grown here side by side under her watchful eye.

Well, they did keep the edibles away from the poisonous ones. They weren’t morons.  

Talibah walked for another ten minutes before she practically stumbled upon that who she sought. Her master was tending a row of seedlings in a raised bed. Talibah knelt on the flagstone path as she waited to be acknowledged.

It didn’t take long.

“Are you well?”

That was not the opening Talibah had been expecting. Perhaps punishment did not await her at the end of her report. “My pride is a bit bruised, but physically I am well.”

“It is fortunate that something distracted the palace guard so soon after your capture. Do you have any idea what it was?” Talibah had sent a brief missive ahead of her arrival announcing that she had managed to escape and would return to give her full report in person.

Now it was time to fill in the details.

“A group of guards from one of the provinces were milling about. They did not bring in any additional prisoners, nor did they seek to remove either of the two men being held in the block with me. They arrived in the night; there was a stir upon their arrival, but there was no attack on the palace or the city.” Other than Talibah herself that was. “They brought bad tidings, I do not know more than that.”

“No matter, if it is of any consequence to us, it shall be revealed in good time.” She turned away from her work. Talibah idly noted that the plants she had been tending would be ready for harvest very soon. The peppers the plant produced were used in a variety of dishes. They could also be dried and ground into a fine powder that was used to blind and choke an opponent in battle. As with much of the island, benign looks concealed a deadly punch.

“If you say, it shall be so.”

Her master didn’t respond. She slowly removed the thick leather gloves she had been wearing while handing the plants. As soon as she had set them aside, she signaled for Talibah to rise. Once she was on her feet she spoke again, “Kar’tar returned with a message days ago. _The Siren’s Call_ docked not long after.”

Talibah almost swore. She should have checked the harbor before ascending the mountain trail to the temple. Though on second thought she should not have been surprised. _The Siren’s Call_ was the fastest ship in their fleet. It also had a head start besides. “So you already know…”

“That my suspicions were confirmed?” She finished as she turned to fully face her. She was smiling. “It was most encouraging news.”

“Encouraging?” Talibah frowned. What she had discovered served to only make their predicament more complicated in her opinion.

“Finding answers to mysteries long sought is always encouraging to one of my age.”

“I shall take your word on that.”

She nodded. “On to your primary mission, did you find the book?”

Talibah straightened her shoulders. “King Harold keeps it in his private library in the family wing of the palace. The floor is near constantly under guard. In addition, he has taken to keeping the book itself within a locked case. I believe he had his pet assassin place wards on the case itself. No one would be able to remove the book from the palace without notice.”

“The axe?”

“Also secured under heavy guard in the depths of the palace. I can confirm that both items are beyond Decima’s grasp.” She’d at least accomplished that much of her assigned task.

“Most excellent.” She sounded pleased. Perhaps god was indeed merciful this day. “Any sign of the remains?”

“Other than what I am sure the others have already told you?” Talibah shook her head, “I found no indication of their location in the capitol. Though in truth I had not exhausted every avenue of my search. I wish I had more time.”

“It is of little use to worry over it. I doubted King Harold would keep them within his capitol to begin with.” She began walking and motioned for Talibah to follow. “He is a bit too clever for that I think.”

“I could have learned more with additional time in the city. I do not know how I was discovered.” She had been so very careful. She’d turned the days prior to that night on the rooftop over and over in her mind while sailing home from Thornhill. To this very moment, she could not determine just how that Root woman had discerned her true nature and uncovered her plans for her rooftop meeting.

All she did know was that the woman’s reputation for cunning was well earned. She rolled her jaw… And that the Knight Commander had a wicked left hook.

“Given the history of Thornhill, I am almost certain an acolyte of The Oracle is a member of King Harold’s inner circle. Perhaps the king himself. Either way, no one would evade their notice for long.”

That would explain a great many things. Though it also opened the door to untold complications. “If I may, that will make your plans far more difficult.”

“Yes, I will have to reevaluate my approach.” She waved a hand in the air, “That is a worry for another day.”

“If I can be of assistance…”

“You’ve served admirably, but your work in Thornhill is finished.”

Was she wrong? Was she being punished after all? This felt like a demotion. “But…”

“I’ll send another to keep an eye on things there. I will need to know immediately should earlier intervention prove to be necessary. For now, I need your assistance with another matter. We’ve made contact with the rebels, but I fear they shall not be able to reacquire many of the relics.”

Talibah bowed her head in recognition. “I live to serve.”

The path they were on turned sharply and then opened up into a small clearing. A large pond sat in the middle. The water was often used as a focus for the mediations of the acolytes. Talibah’s gaze strayed to an iron cage that was suspended from the branches of an ancient tree that stretched out above the water.

She suspected morning meditation had been held on the other side of the gardens recently…

The cage had one occupant. As they drew closer Talibah realized his dirty, blood stained armor was that of a Catalyst. “The hunt was successful?”

“Somewhat…” Her master tilted her head as she gazed up at cage. “He was unaware of Control’s whereabouts. In fact, she seems to have employed him as a decoy to draw Thornhill’s agent away from her trail. The Navarans discovered him after he reached their main port, and offered him to one of our ships as a gift.”

“This latest Control is a clever one.”

“Indeed. She was intelligent enough not to tell him anything of use.”

That was unfortunate for their guest. Though the man in the cage did not react to their conversation. He continued to sit unmoving, staring blankly ahead.

“She’ll not elude me for long.”

“No one does,” Talibah agreed. It wasn’t flattery. Merely a fact.

“Come,” She began walking again. Talibah hastened to follow. The path wound through two other levels before opening out into a grand courtyard. There were a few large planters here bracketing a large fountain. A weathered straw target for archery to the left. A training dummy with a few throwing knives in its torso to the right. The master’s private quarters were up a set of stairs directly across from where they stood.

“You’ll dine with us tonight.”

“Us?”

That question earned her a raised brow, “Do you think my beloved would dine elsewhere while in residence?”

“Of course not,” Talibah dipped her head. Perhaps she had hoped the insufferable woman would sleep through such an event.

Her master chuckled. “She will behave herself if you do.”

Talibah fought not to roll her eyes. She wasn’t the one that tended to throw food if one said something disagreeable. Still she followed as her master walked around the fountain towards the stairs. To turn down the invitation would be an insult.

Her master’s steps slowed abruptly. “And how did you get in here?” She reached out and brushed her fingertips against the leaves of a small weed growing in one of the empty planters. She looked up at Talibah, “Remind me to give detailed instructions to the acolytes responsible for the gardens this cycle before we depart. They’re getting sloppy.”

“So you’ll be leaving the island then?” That was something that had not occurred in many years.

“This is one conflict I can no longer avoid.” She smiled wistfully, “My beloved is not happy about it.”

“For once we concur.”

“A grave tiding indeed.” Talibah huffed her agreement. Her master began walking once again. “The pair of you seem to forget that I am not as fragile as I appear.”

“We do not forget it.” How could they? She pulled open the door to the residence and motioned for her master to enter before her. “It is simply that you have given men enough of your mercy.”

“Oh for those I go to face, there will be no mercy.”

When Talibah briefly looked back towards the garden, the weed had already withered and died.


End file.
